


Traveling Around

by Flamyoi



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Christmas Party, Cooking, Depression, Dragons, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Europe, Falling In Love, Grief, Healing, Idiots in Love, Letters, Magic places, Multi, Niffler, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Owls, Plenty of original characters - Freeform, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Rating May Change, Sexual Tension, Slice of Life, Sorry I love writing about food, Strong Friendship - Freeform, Technical babble about animals, Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2019-07-11 05:17:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 36,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15965504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flamyoi/pseuds/Flamyoi
Summary: The war had ended and Harry wasn't too keen on being the perfect poster boy for the Ministry and dating Ginny Weasley. Nor did he want to go back to Hogwarts for a final year. But what if he did nothing of the sort? What if, on Minerva McGonagall's advice, he left the United Kingdom? On the road, he will meet interesting people and see other again. For the first time in his life, he will make his own choices, for the better and the worse.





	1. An important talk

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone!  
> I don't remember when I've started writing this fic (almost 85k on this day) but I've just finished translating the first chapter. o/ The French and the original version is by the way on my ff.net account. I'm deeply sorry for all remaining mistakes, I know there are (but where???).  
> I've read The Cursed Child and took my time thinking about it; and no, I don't think Harry can become like this. So I decided to take some liberties with the character. I had so much fun writing his adventures out of the canon. I hope you'll enjoy them too.  
> (When I read the tags I feel like the fluff is overtaking the angst, but... the fluff is just there from time to time.)  
> It's about time I stop talking. See you at the bottom of the page!

Harry woke up with a start. On his right, an old alarm clock fixed by Mr Weasley was obnoxiously indicating six thirty in the morning. He switched it off and groaned, then grabbed his glasses on the bedside table.

When the ceiling appeared distinctly, Harry moved the covers aside and got up, wearing bright orange pyjamas once in Ron's possession.

This wasn't a decent hour to wake up. His nights were endless until he fell asleep, rarely before three, then too short when he could finally rest because the infuriating alarm clock was here every morning to wake him up at dawn. It was easier to be mad at it than at the real responsible of this sleep schedule.

Harry couldn't decently say out loud what he secretly thought to everyone around him.

It was quite irrational that he chose to break down right now. He had held on until now, idolized for something he had no memory whatsoever and tossed around for all these precarious childhood years.

Now that he was at last seen for something he had really done he just couldn't handle it anymore.

Good job, Harry.

He was craving to say what he thought of their behaviour, of their joy, of their need for revival while he was dying inside.

Except it was selfish to do so and deep down he didn't really want to hurt them. They already had to face their own demons.

He couldn't put on the same scale his pain and the Weasley's. He had not had an easy life, but he had not lost a son nor a blood brother.

His guilt toward a family that had always backed him up was enough most of the time to keep his mind from spiralling. He forbade himself to think during the day, but with morning came a lessened attention. Today already seemed worse than the previous days.

Too lost in his own mind, he was still sitting on the edge of the bed with his arms around his waist. He startled when someone opened the tiny bedroom's door. Ron appeared on the doorstep wearing clean clothes and hair still damp from the shower.

A look at the clock. Seven o'clock. _Dear_ _Merlin, I've lost time._

“What're you doing mate? You alright?”

The redhead made a face. Harry could guess why. He was usually the first to get up. It wasn't normal for him to laze around in his pyjamas instead of being downstairs eating breakfast.

“I'm okay. Actually, I overslept. I just woke up!” He tried to say bashfully.

Ron's face relaxed.

“Oh, I see. Mister Potter wanted to lie in while us common folks were getting ready. Well done,” he joked.

Harry forced a smile on his face. Since when couldn't he be spontaneous with his best friend? At least no one seemed to notice he was faking.

If he would take a step back, Harry would notice that he spend his whole life faking, with every kind of people, though not all the time.

Ron left and Harry hurried to get ready. He didn't want to be late.

Molly welcomed him in the Burrow's kitchen with a hug, then turned around to watch as a greyish mix slowly poured itself into a bowl. The cooking often suited the cook's mood but Harry was not complaining as it was real food and not canned one.

Harry sat on the bench near Ron who was devouring toasts. He was already taller than most of his siblings, but that didn't stop him from eating like when he was growing up. Hermione often told him how she felt about that. Speaking of, Harry didn't see her in the room. He accepted distractedly a bowl of porridge from Molly.

“Where's Mione?”

“Already gone,” Ron answered with his mouth full.

Harry didn't pry and dug into his own breakfast. Two weeks earlier, after considering the idea for a while, Hermione had brought back her parents from Australia. She thought she was selfish to make them come back when they were probably very happy in the Pacific Ocean, unaware of the war and the wizarding world. Still, it was hard not to miss one's family in this time of peace after enduring years of war. So Hermione had made a decision.

She hadn't managed to free them entirely of the powerful Obliviate spell she had used to protect them. Things were slightly getting better these past days tough. Her parents could now tell that they used to live in England with their daughter but thought she was dead, even though Hermione was standing in front of them. Just like the old days, she spent her time reading spell books and talking with Mediwizards in St Mungo and also read muggle psychology books in despair.

She wasn't often at the Burrow. In fact, only Ginny, Molly and Georges spend their time there. The others just crossed paths, enslaved by their tight schedules.

“What're you doing today?”

Harry's head perked up. Ron had finished eating.

“Still in the Law Enforcement with Kingsley. There are more charges we need to discuss.”

“Sounds more thrilling than to go through the shops' paperwork in Diagon Alley.”

“ Not cool.”

Harry tried to convey some honesty into his voice so that his friend could feel some support.

“Well, it could never be worse than a double Potions, right?”

Harry gritted his teeth. He would have prefered Ron to mention Divination or History, for example. Severus Snape's death was too fresh in his mind. The man had been horrible with him for seven years, that was a fact. And Harry had hated him with passion. But he was thankful for a least one thing: Snape had been frank with him – even if he didn't manage to teach him anything about Potions.

If Harry had to be honest with himself, he felt more strongly the distance from his own parents since his former teacher was dead. The Marauders were gone, same for the vast majority of the people who knew them well.

The war had slaughtered generations.

Harry had not expected his mother and Snape to be so close when they were kids. His mother was always described as a flamboyant young woman, sincere and loving, far away from the common idea of the dark Potions Master.

Harry suddenly noticed that Ron was waiting for some kind of reaction and managed a weak smile that was more of a face. He quickly finished his bowl and went upstairs. He was sleeping in Bill's old bedroom – small but still bigger than a cupboard – in front of Ron's. Ginny crossed the hallway to go to the bathroom and looked expectantly at Harry who just scratched the base of his skull. They said hurried hellos to each other and went for their respective room.

Harry had not used his stay at the Burrow as an opportunity to come closer to Ginny. He didn't want to, even the more when everybody expected him to. Ginny was like a sister, same for Hermione even if he didn't have to share awkward glances with Hermione whenever they saw each other.

He hadn't talked to Ginny before they started acting like this. Either way, she understood his need for distance or she had her own troubles to handle. It wasn't so bad a situation.

He took his jacket refusing to see the clock showing he was late. Ginny was still in the bathroom; he'd brush his teeth later. He simply joined a waiting Ron in the living-room and they apparated to the Ministry of Magic.

 

[…]

 

The Deatheaters' trials began in a sordid atmosphere. Many had not made it through the Battle of Hogwarts. Others were hiding, like Alecto and Amycus Carrow. A handful of them was imprisoned in Azkaban waiting for trial. Mulciber and Avery had been of limited use for Voldemort and so their sentences were lighter than Nott's, Dolohov's and the Lestrange brothers', Rabastan and Rodolphus. But the end result would be the same: one cannot easily leave Azkaban on two feet, no matter if the sentence is one year or fifteen.

Twelve criminals were judged in only eight days. The Malfoy's trials were the longest. Lucius Malfoy had been within a hair's breadth of receiving the Dementor's kiss. Instead, the judges decided that he was to spend the next fifteen years in prison. He probably still had some allies in the Wizengamot. As a good politician, he had managed to keep most of his misdeeds secret, to the point that only the use of Veritaserum was able to convince some judges. Even if he was never caught raiding a muggle village like Nott Sr or Bellatrix Lestrange, he had taken part in significant battles and his double-dealing had not been particularly appreciated.

His wife, Narcissa Malfoy, had been sentenced to two years in Azkaban. She wasn't wearing the Mark and Harry revealed that she had let him escape during Hogwarts' Battle. Harry didn't pity her, his only wish was for justice to be made. She didn't deserve the sentence of those who had willingly joined the Dark Lord. She just appeared to be married to one of his most loyal supporters. Nevertheless, she was an accomplice of the atrocities committed under her roof.

_Hermione's screams. Not not, brain, please, not now._

Today, it was their only son's trial. Draco Malfoy was charged with association with the Dark Lord since he wore the Mark, with the murder of Albus Dumbledore and with complicity in raids against Muggles. Harry was once again with the audience, not as himself but as the Savior of the Wizarding World. He had spent more time in this room the past eight days than at the Burrow, that was so depressing.

If he hadn't testified at Lucius' trial, he would probably do it today. No one other than him knew that Draco Malfoy wasn't the one guilty of Albus Dumbledore's murder. And even though Harry didn't make friends with Draco since the Battle, he thought that the judgement needed to be handled carefully. The truth was more complicated than the faded mark on his forearm seemed to tell. The both of them were manipulated by their side during the war.

Harry still had no idea about what he was going to say. His brain was silent. The trial began without him being focused. Sitting upright on the wooden chair at the bottom of the row of seats, Draco was pale but emotionless.

The witnesses came to testify one after another. Finally, someone called Harry. He went down the stairs until he was standing a few meters away from his former nemesis. He turned to face the members of the Wizengamot solemn in their crimson robes. Harry had to brush off his memories of this place when he was the one being judged.

“Please take your oath.” A stern voice came from the tribune.

“I, Harry James Potter, swear on my magic and my honour as a wizard to say the truth and help justice triumph.”

The oath looked like the ones they had found for Dumbledore's Army. 

_Bad timing, brain_ .

“Since when do you know the defendant, Draco Lucius Malfoy?”

“We met during our first year in Hogwarts, seven years ago.”

“Would you say that you possess information that could help the trial?”

“I do.”

“Don't omit anything.”

Harry took a deep breath. The silence in the room was heavy and that was weird considering there were almost a hundred people in addition to the judges.

“Draco Malfoy hasn't killed Albus Dumbledore.”

He waited for the audience to calm down a bit before explaining himself.

“I know you're upset. If not Draco, who else? Well, I was there that night when Albus Dumbledore fell from the Astronomy Tower.”

Harry's voice was cold as he tried to banish the feelings from his story. He could not let go if he didn't want to break down in front of everyone.

“Draco had been ordered to kill the Headmaster. I guess it was a way for Voldemort to get rid of a powerful opponent without risking the lives of his most loyal followers. But you know, it's not easy to kill a man, even more, when you're eighteen and you know the man.

Harry knew what he was talking about.

“Draco couldn't. He couldn't even try. Severus Snape, who was there on behalf of the Dark Lord did it to avoid his wrath on them.”

Again the audience let go. If Harry had got the time, he would have defended Snape; but in all honesty, his former teacher couldn't probably care less about a posthumous tribute.

“He is not guilty of the crime you're accusing him of. And I don't think he had a choice whether to join or not the Deatheaters. Unless I am mistaken, Pureblood families aren't kind to their deviant members and Voldemort didn't take “no” as an answer.

Harry could hear the whispers behind his back. Sirius and Regulus Black's ghosts came before his eyes. He blinked and then they were gone.

“To sum up, Mister Potter,” the undersecretary said. “You are saying that according to you the only valid accusation is the complicity in raids against Muggle.”

“Yes.”

She proceeded to carefully write his statement on the parchment and then Harry was send off. When going back to his own seat he checked the blond's unchanged expression. Even though their situation was different they were both trying to protect themselves with an armour.

Harry's concentration dropped for the remainder of the trial because he didn't really care to listen to the judges and others witnesses. He had done what he could to make sure the judge knew the truth. He didn't want to use the Savior's card to pardon Malfoy. First of all, because the blond was too proud to owe him something like this. Second of all, because Harry had taken an oath. He was to help justice triumph, not to make it himself.

Two long hours later the judges came back to deliver their judgement.

“Draco Lucius Malfoy, in regard to the charges against you, we sentence you to two years in Azkaban.”

The audience let go of their frustration. Of course, they didn't agree with the sentence. The Malfoys weren't particularly well perceived by the public opinion. As for Harry, he was quite relieved. One year near the Dementors was enough to go crazy but Draco could have taken so much longer. The judges had listened to him. They had trust Potter-the-Savior. Harry repressed a groan and took advantage of the ambient mess to escape without being seen. He didn't want to see his friends right now. He needed to go back at the Burrow before they did.

Leaving the depths of the Ministry seemed endless, a bit like Hogwarts' dungeons with less dampness. Speaking of, Harry found himself in the street to be welcomed by a torrent of water. He apparated to the Burrow and crossed the soaked garden. Now even his socks were wet. His mood couldn't be any worse.

 

[…]

 

“Harry, do you have a minute?”

The young man raised his head to meet Kingsley's piercing gaze. He was currently chatting with Ron about the most useful spells to know as an Auror.

“Er, yes.”

He smiled apologetically to Ron and got up to follow the Minister of Magic through the maze of corridors. They did not talk and only the sound of Harry's footsteps on the carpet accompanied them.

Kingsley probably needed his help with something and he could already say that he wasn't going to like it. But he didn't have much choice anyway.

He took a seat in front of the Minister, himself seated behind his files cluttered desk.

“How are you, Harry?”

Harry rolled his eyes. He was in Albus Dumbledore's office all over again, playing nice under his insistent gaze.

“Fine, thank you, Kingsley.”

Was he going to talk for real or...?

“What's the matter today?”

“You do know that Hogwarts rebuilding is going well.”

Harry nodded. Hermione, who spent her time at the library for her researches, had talked about it.

“But?”

Kingsley's demeanour was suddenly paternalistic. Harry hated it because he felt like a first year again.

“However we need some powerful wizards and witches to help stabilize the protections before we can move on.”

“I thought the castle was protecting itself,” Harry said, sincerely amazed.

After all these years, he had finally read – or at least some chapters of – Hogwarts: A History. Hermione could be proud.

“Of course, it has its own defences as we have seen during the battle. In fact, each headmaster had added their own protections over the centuries. If you add to this the Founders' magic, put together thousands of years ago, well, you get a very powerful castle. But everything has been upset by the battle and Minerva has not been the Headmaster long enough to make it right on her own. We need great people like you to strengthen this ancestral web.” The Minister explained slowly.

Harry did not understand half of it even if Kingsley tried to make it clear. He kept staring at the wall without saying anything.

“You can see it as repairs of a piece of fabric with holes in it. The protections are made from a web of spells. If some are missing, if there's a hole, that's not too serious. But if the damages are worse, for both the protections and the fabric, then someone needs to do something to fix it.”

What shocked Harry the more was the parallel with the fabric. He didn't know how the wizards were repairing their clothes but if they were doing it with magic – he suddenly remembered Madam Malkin and her shop in Diagon Alley – how could Kingsley know about a muggle way? He frowned. His mind was digressing again. He should stop doing this for real, especially when he was in front of someone watching his every move.

“I get it. What I don't understand is why you want me to go there.”

“I told you, Harry. You are a powerful wizard.”

The teenager rolled his eyes. His anger went higher when Kingsley made a knowing look.

“Me fighting Voldemort doesn't mean I'm powerful,” he said calmly. “I don't even have my OWLs.”

“You didn't have the time to sit for them. I'm positively sure you would pass without trouble.”

It was infuriating how Kingsley always had an answer for everything.

“And by the way, I know you want to use me as a symbol. You're going to tell them that everything's fine since the Savior of the Wizarding World invests himself in the rebuilding, blah blah.” He said, dryly, forgetting who he was talking to.

“Who do you take me for, Harry? Are you aware that you're accusing me of manipulation? We are not using you to earn money or win the next elections.”

Harry looked elsewhere. Kingsley was taking it personally.

“You're helping them having faith. You're appeasing the strain and the pain.”

“The cause may be noble, but that doesn't change the facts. That's still prostitution of my image.”

At another time, Harry would have been pleased to see Kingsley lose his composure. For now, he couldn't bring himself to enjoy a small victory like this. He was focused on the conversation and where it would lead him.

“Sometimes I'm under the feeling that you don't trust me.”

Harry almost huffed.

“If I didn't trust you, I wouldn't be here. I'm just having trouble believing that people could get better after seeing me when I want to be miles away from here.”

He felt slightly better after confessing this, even though Kingsley wasn't the person he had dreamt telling this to.

“I know it's not easy for you, I am not blind.” The Minister said. “This period is double-edged. We're sharing an unprecedented joy because the war has ended for good, which doesn't stop us from thinking about all the sacrifices we made to get there.”

And God knew Harry did his part.

“It's normal to be lost now, to feel like you don't have a goal anymore. You spent literally your entire life with the war at your side.”

Harry stopped listening to Kingsley's full of good intentions speech. He was angry at him for reading his feelings so well. Was he really like an open book? And by the way, the lack of goal wasn't his biggest problem. He was struggling far more with his hero status.

Kingsley was discouring and Harry wasn't hearing a single word, gazing into space. When the man noticed, he sighed audibly and stroke his cheek slowly with his palm. Harry didn't blink an eye.

The Minister was at a loss of something to do. Nobody knew how to act around the boy – the teenager – because no one really knew what he had to go through. Of course, numerous families had suffered during several generations. There were lots of orphans, but orphans purchased by both a prophecy and a dark lord weren't so usual.

If at first, he had thought that Harry was a bit of a cheeky kid with a taste for Quidditch and tricks, he had changed his mind when meeting him for the first time two years before at Square Grimmauld. He had thought that the kid was amazingly mature for his age when he wasn't spending his energy forgetting what the adults were telling him. Which possessed a logic of its own. Harry wasn't ignoring them just to be insolent, he did it because he deemed having gauged the situation better. He wasn't just a trouble-maker. That wasn't so surprising considering he had lots of pressure on his shoulders since he had made it into the Wizarding World. The gravity on his face when he was deep in thoughts had only worsened with time.

Kingsley was torn in two by his moral responsibility, taking care of Harry now that his parental figures were gone, and his duty as a Prime Minister, telling him to use Harry as a symbol to help the people. He had lots of pressure of his own too.

But Harry was apparently rejecting both. Kingsley clapped his hands and the young man came to himself, a lost look on his face.

“I'm going to offer you a compromise,” Kingsley announced.

Harry laid back on his chair, sceptical.

“You won't convince me that you're not powerful. You were maybe the only one able to end Voldemort's reign but you could have died instead of killing him. If you won, that means you're stronger. So I'm asking again.”

As Kingsley was waiting for some kind of sign to continue, Harry nodded slowly.

“And to show that I'm asking your help concerning your power and not your fame, I am not going to tell people that you're going to Hogwarts.”

Harry opened wide his eyes and Kingsley almost smiled. Finally, he was making him react.

“You... I...” He began, lost in his thoughts. “I'm honoured that you're deeming me able to do that, but honestly, I don't see how this is going to help you.” He added uncertainly.

Kingsley was astonished by the change of direction. Harry had been completely reluctant to be a symbol of the cause, and now he was worried about not being useful enough. Was he so disturbed? This was deeply unsettling.

“I wish you'd believe me, Harry. I have faith in your abilities and even if I would have prefered talking about your being there, I'm going to respect your needs.” He said calmly.

A nervous laugh answered. Then he heard the teenager whispering, eyes glaring at the carpet.

“Forever a disappointment, right?”

He understood that he wasn't mean to hear that when Harry raised his head to look at him.

“I'm going to help you,” he announced.

Kingsley put the worrisome sentence in a corner of his head for the moment. Instead of asking questions which would anger him, he smiled.

“Thank you. When do you think you could leave?”

Harry shrugged.

“When you need me to. I don't have any schedule here.”

“Very well. I'll send you an owl at the Burrow with the details in a few days if that's fine.”

“Okay.”

They stood up and shook hands over the desk.

“Take care of yourself, Harry.”

“Will do. See you later, Kingsley.”

Harry left the office without turning back and Kingsley let himself fall back into his chair suddenly tired. Who was he talking about, when he mentioned the disappointment? As displeasing as it was, Kingsley was tending toward believing Harry was talking about himself.

Was it the source of the problem? He didn't think he had superior abilities and saw himself as a loser. That was absurd. Even if he had never believed Harry was narcissistic, Kingsley had never considered this extreme.

He had now to find a way to give faith back to the young wizard.

 

[…]

 

Harry was gazing at the bottom of his empty bowl in the Burrow's kitchen when a sudden noise made him come to his senses. For sure, it wasn't the first occurrence of the noise since Ginny came from the living-room, her red hair swaying on her shoulders. She opened the window in front of Harry and let an brownish owl enter the kitchen.

It flew and landed a moment later on the wooden table next to Harry's bowl. He freed it from his message and gave it a quick caress. The light feathered small owl rubbed its head on the teenager's palm with a content look. When the touch ended, it smoothed its feathers before leaving from where it had come. Ginny had not moved. She closed the window and after a brief hesitation, sat in front of Harry. If he saw her turmoil, he didn't dare to ask her to leave him alone.

He unfolded the message and concentrated to read it. It was short, Kingsley wasn't one for endless sentences in letters, which was curious when one knew him in person. When Harry put the paper back on the table to rub his eyes with a bored look, Ginny could not take it anymore.

“Bad news?”

Now he needed to comfort her.

“Not really. It's just... Kingsley is asking me to go to Hogwarts for a while.”

“And you're not happy about it?” She asked with caution.

She seemed puzzled. He could easily guess why. It was no secret that Harry considered Hogwarts as his home.

“That's not it. Well... I don't really want to meet people these days, you see?” He confessed.

She sent him a comforting look.

“There's no shame about that, Harry. You'll just have to ask to be left in peace.”

For a second, her spontaneity and simplicity made him think that it could be that easy.

“You're going to be there for a while?”

“Kingsley says that it's only a matter of a few weeks. I think it'll depend on the people's power and their harmony.

Ginny seemed lost and Harry remembered he hadn't talked about the reason he was going to Hogwarts for.

“We're going to fix the protections of the castle, in fact.”

“Oh, amazing!”

“I don't know who else was asked by Kingsley.” He added.

“Don't worry, I'm sure it will be fine. And then surely he'll let you take a rest, won't he? You look exhausted.”

Harry managed a weak front smile.

“I'll think to ask him for some vacations, good idea.”

He stood up to put his bowl in the sink and went upstairs with the letter after saying bye to Ginny.

Once in his little room where the morning sun was revealing all the dust on the furniture, he lay on the bed and looked at the ceiling. He did not know if he was happy to go back to Hogwarts. Kingsley had said multiple times that he had not to worry about being disturbed there, he had even said it again in a post-scriptum in his short letter. The prospect of spending time away from the Burrow and the Ministry where he was always wearing a mask was not as comforting as it should have been, without him knowing why. He just felt empty, not even missing something. More like numb, which was sadly not keeping his sordid dreams away at night.

By the way, Ron was probably going to feel a bit envious since Harry would return to Hogwarts when he was stuck doing paperwork at the Ministry. Harry didn't know what was best. To be honest and say that he didn't feel that happy to go, this way risking worrying his friends, or to pretend, this way risking to make Ron jealous. He had not the energy in him to mess his mind with that kind of things to the extent that he thought for a while of leaving early to avoid talking to anybody.

Which was not necessarily a good idea. Hermione and Ron were perfectly able to corner him once he would be there and he didn't want that either.

He resolved to tell them the news when he would see them, with his current mood. The rest was accessory.

His day came down to wander into his room, the mind clouded from all sort of things. He wasn't hungry when Molly called for lunch and he stayed upstairs. When he finally went out around five in the afternoon to take a walk in the garden, he met Georges, sweating in his jogging. The redhead nodded in his direction and went away swiftly. Harry listened to his footsteps on the stairs before leaving the house.

He had not seen Georges for a few days now that he was thinking about it. This wasn't surprising since he rarely left his room. He had screamed horrible things at his mother when she had tried to call him for dinner once and now nobody dared to disturb him. Everyone was leaving him be.

Harry had no idea what twinship truly meant, other than a link beyond everything. To lose one's twin, to lose a half of one's soul... His chest hurt and even if it was painful Harry felt relieved of simply feeling something, of not simply intellectualise the concept of angst.

He sat behind the house and contemplated the setting sun while trying to have positive thoughts. He heard everyone come back one after another but he didn't move. It was completely dark outside when he resolved to face his family of choice.

He entered the living room's door. Hermione was the first to spot him. She was sitting on the couch with a book in her hands.

“Oh, Harry!”

She smiled, put her book away and stood up to embrace him. He let her and kissed her cheek. Only then did he notice her red eyes.

“Was your day good?” She asked after sitting back on the couch.

Harry shrugged. He didn't know.

“It could have been worse,” he simply answered.

He had decided to not embellish his feelings tonight.

“And yours, how was it?”

Hermione lowered her gaze for a second and smiled sadly. Harry thought she was about to cry.

“There are days like today when you wonder if you're not fighting a lost cause.”

That wasn't Hermione-like at all to say something like this and Harry started to worry. Did something severe happen or was it exhaustion which was putting her into this state of nerves? He came to sit beside her and put an arm around her shoulders.

“Tell me what's wrong, Mione.”

She leaned her head in the crook of his neck and sighed.

“Tell me what's good... I've tried every spell, every potions not linked to Dark Magic and even hypnosis! Nobody in history had to give back their memories to Muggle, obviously!” She said bitterly.

“Which state are they in?”

“Oh, they love me, that's for sure. But they _don't know_ I'm their daughter.”

Her voice broke in the end and Harry felt her beginning to cry without a sound. Ill at ease because not knowing how to help her, he settled for holding her and stroking softly her hair. Ron came into the room and exchanged a discouraged look with Harry. He sat into an armchair in front of them and began to small-talk with his friend in the most spontaneous way possible at the moment. Ron had considerably gained in maturity and tactfulness since their years at Hogwarts.

When Molly called everyone from dinner, Hermione had stopped crying. She wiped her nose and eyes on her sleeve which usually would have made the boys laugh since she was always saying they couldn't behave to save their lives.

Around the table that night sat Arthur, Molly, Ginny, Hermione, Ron and Harry. It was a bit more lively than usual, no doubt thanks to the father who was telling stories of the Ministry. Harry surprised himself by thinking that he would miss them during his trip in Scotland. Hermione was coming back every night when she was spending her days in the castle's library, but Harry didn't like taking the Floo so he would minimize his trips.

When Molly stood up to retrieve a cake from the oven, Harry told them about his trip to come, supported by the encouraging look on Ginny's face in front of him. He couldn't remember why he was dreading the announcement because they all were nice about it. Ron was just a tiny bit envious.

Dinner ended in a good mood without anyone asking Hermione why her eyes were red.

They had changed. The war had changed them.

 


	2. The venomous tentacula

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!  
> Thank you so much for the kudos and bookmarks in the first chapter, it means a lot. Here's chapter two! Enjoy your reading.

The new Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall, welcomed Harry when he arrived on Hogwarts' grounds. She smiled her usual stern way, which meant “I'm-glad-to-see-you-Potter” when one knew how to read it. It was surprisingly comforting to meet her, as if he were years away in the past. He had left the castle a bit less than a year before to hunt the Horcruxes with Ron and Hermione, and it seemed a lifetime ago.

Minerva McGonagall was someone whom Harry had a great deal of respect for, even though he never had an extensive bond with her like he used to have with Remus Lupin. She had given him his chance the first year with Quidditch when he was already breaking the rules in front of everyone. She had always done her best to protect him. Hogwarts was his first home and the Transfiguration teacher was indivisible from the feeling of comfort.

She showed him a room near the Gryffindor's common room since he didn't want to be alone in his old dormitory. He would have found this so weird. His new room was scarcely furnished but the bed seemed comfortable.

The night of his arrival, he could not sleep and used the time to wander in the hallways. After an impromptu meeting with Peeves who sang mad things louder than ever, he felt sorry about the Marauder's map left at the Burrow. He had honestly thought he wouldn't need it. The following nights, he avoided going to the same places. It felt so unreal to be alone in the castle at night without risking being caught by Flitch or worse, Snape.

Nevertheless, those nights left him with a bittersweet taste because this was the end of a cycle of his life. He realised then it was not healthy to keep living with the ghosts of his past – in all the ways possible.

Harry did nothing in particular for his first day. The Headmistress had told him that the meetings would only begin the next day and he had nothing in store to keep his mind off things. Hagrid was currently travelling in France, near Beauxbâtons without a doubt. Most of the teachers were gone too. The castle seemed deserted. And except for Peeves, even the ghosts were nowhere to be seen.

Harry carefully avoided going to the border of the Forbidden Forest for two reasons. Firstly, he had seen enough malevolent creatures for the remainder of his life. Secondly, Hagrid wasn't there to lessen the bad memories associated with the location.

Since the activities were reduced despite the dimensions of the domain, he walked all around the Great Lake, keeping his distance with the small island where Dumbledore had been buried. When he went back to the castle, he passed in front of the Herbology's greenhouses. He had not meant to stop there but a broken glass like sound coming from inside made him change his mind. Briefly, he remembered Alastor “Mad-Eye” Moody saying “You need to be prepared!” in a resolute tone and thus went into the closest greenhouse with his wand raised. The place was quite dark and pleasantly warm. Harry walked slowly, heart beating and wondering if he wasn't just paranoid or if there was for real a threat lurking. One couldn't be so sure, especially at Hogwarts.

A louder broken glass sound made him jump and he breathed deeply to calm down. Hopefully for him, there was no murderous-looking plant in his vicinity.

He was almost at the back of the house when he spotted a human body in the shadows and heard whispers. He came closer and frowned.

“Neville?”

The young man turned around and Harry noticed that it was indeed his former classmate.

“Harry! What are you doing here?”

He put on the workbench the horrible plant he was holding in his arms and took his wand to curse it. The red tentacles retracted and Harry thought he had seen a row of sharp teeth.

“This should do for now,” Neville whispered. “She is going to be unbearable later.”

Indeed the plant wasn't moving anymore but Harry was wary and kept watching it out of the corner of his eye. Neville put his wand back in his pocket and turned around to see his friend.

“So, what's brought you here?”

He looked far more well-rested than Harry.

“Kingsley asked me to come for the repair of the magical protections matter.”

“Oh, I believe I've heard about that.”

Then Neville smiled.

“I should have thought they would ask you to come.”

Harry made a discreet face and changed the subject.

“And you, you're looking after the greenhouses?”

“Yeah!” the young Longbottom answered, enthusiastic. “Professor Sprout went to see her family and asked me if I could take care of the plants during her vacation.”

“And you jumped at the chance.”

“Well, of course. Besides my grandma is so overexcited since she understood that I'm not a lost cause, it's confusing.”

The confession intrigued Harry. Neville's relation with his grandmother had never been idyllic but Harry would have thought that with the war and Neville's role in it, things would be better. Maybe it was too sudden and he needed time to adjust. Neville had always been on the introvert side.

“How did you came into the greenhouse by the way?”

“I was just passing by when I heard a glass sound. I wanted to see where it came from.” Harry confessed with a grimace.

“I see! It's the Venomous Tentacula, she's grabbed test tubes and dropped them everywhere. She's a bit wild sometimes.”

Harry did not want to know what else this terror was capable of doing. He had never been a fan of Herbology, unlike his friend.

“I was just being paranoid then.” He tried to smile. “I'm going back to the castle now, I have some things to do.”

“How long are you staying?”

“Oh, about two weeks. We can meet again soon!”

“Great!”

The two friends said goodbye to each other and Harry finally went back to the castle, mind wandering.

 

[…]

 

For all the first week, Harry had the feeling to be in a parallel dimension. He didn't see a lot of people, except for Neville, Minerva and the dozen of people he was working with, for the most part, adults he didn't know personally.

The work sessions were strange at the very least. The group took place in the Great Hall which, after highly-developed calculations, was supposed to be the place where the magic was the most powerful. They got into pairs because apparently, the founders had done it this way the first time. Harry was with Minerva or Hestia Jones when the Headmistress had another business to attend to.

They had to picture, almost feel the magic that surrounded them, then to recite with their partner long incantations. It was demanding and tedious and when Harry went to bed at night he was too tired to stay awake for long. Though that didn't prevent him from waking up several times at night after particularly hard pictures from his subconscious.

He had spent his whole life with the same people and goals and now he had to build his own plans with different choices from them. He thought about Hermione and Ron but not only. He thought about every single people he had met on those grounds.

And especially about the ones he would never meet again. In fact, it was probably about them he was thinking the most. He couldn't help it and he knew it was not going to stop in a heartbeat. To stay in a place which still held the echo of their laughs and the shadows of their beings was not the best idea.

His future was uncertain. What could he possibly do?

 

[…]

 

His timetable changed a bit when the Headmistress asked him to visit her into her office at the end of the first week. It was the first time he set foot there since until that day she had made him come into her own quarters near the Gryffindor's common room.

The wide desk was not covered in stacks of papers and eccentric wizarding objects anymore. As if Minerva couldn't bear the thought of them disappearing completely, she had put them into display cases near the door. When he walked into the room Harry heard the whispers of the portraits and felt self-conscious. He ducked his head instinctively.

“Potter, I am embarrassed.” She said formally when she noticed his arrival. “I forgot to tell you that you could come whenever you wanted. It wasn't a matter of time.”

As he was looking confused, she added.

“Professor Dumbledore's portrait was quite impatient to see you, I must say.”

Oh. He raised his head without thinking but didn't find the former Headmaster at first glance.

“There.”

Minerva showed him a rather wide spot on his right and Harry discovered him in a fancy golden frame. She nudged him to come closer and then disappeared from sight.

“Hello, Harry. It's good to see you.”

“Professor.”

It was just a portrait, but Harry swore his eyes were shining like when he was alive.

“So, how are the repairs going? I confess I wanted to take part in them, but it's proven quite hard to repair anything in my condition.”

Nothing about the war, about the final battle, about the weight Harry had had to carry alone since Dumbledore had left everything behind him? The young man felt a rush of anger.

“Well, I think. Everyone is doing their best.” He said as neutrally as he could.

“There are good chances that the school could open this year.”

The battle had taken place in April and it was now early July. That left a bit less than two months, but from what Harry had seen, the vast majority of the buildings had been repaired before they tackled the domain's magical protections.

“Yes,” he simply answered.

“How do you feel, my boy?” The former Headmaster asked out of nowhere, still smiling.

Could a portrait worry or was he just being polite? Someone had once said to him that portraits were only fragments of a soul which could help to take a decision but who hadn't much to do with their former people.

“I've known better, professor,” he sincerely answered.

“May I ask what's bothering you?”

Like with Kingsley, Harry decided that being honest was better than hiding his feelings. He was too tired to make up lies and remember them.

“A lot of things, I guess. I've spent a year outside of Hogwarts with Ron and Hermione and it's not like before to be here. And the battle happened... I can't possibly forget what I've seen and keep going on with my life as if nothing had happened. That's what everyone is expecting me to, but I can't. I can't come back to Hogwarts like Hermione and I can't go to the Ministry like Ron.”

Dumbledore watched him for long seconds behind his perpetual half-moon glasses.

“The world is wider than you think, Harry. It isn't limited to good or evil, to what you're supposed to do and what you want to do. Let you the time to find something that you'll enjoy as much as when you first came here six years ago.”

Harry pondered that very odd answer from his former Headmaster. He had always thought that there was just black and white for him, their victory or Voldemort's. But with this point of view, some people were unclassifiable, like Snape, Pettigrew or the Malfoys. Nevertheless, Dumbledore was not wrong and Harry was about to take his advice as a blessing even if he didn't yet know what for.

“Thank you, Professor. I'll keep helping with the repairs. I'm keeping your advice in mind for the end of my time here.”

“Good. Believe in yourself, Harry. You are a very talented young wizard.”

Harry made a face and shrugged. Then remembered suddenly something of importance. If there was just the smallest chance of it working... He had to try.

“Professor? Do you know if the Professor Snape has a portrait in the castle?”

Dumbledore seemed truly intrigued.

“Professor Snape was the last Headmaster before the battle. Hence he got a portrait in this same office, but I believe he is often disturbed by the hubbub. You should ask Minerva if she is aware of any other portrait where he could take shelter in the castle.”

After checking that Snape's cold frame was indeed empty, Harry thanked the old man and left after promising him to come back at the end of his task. In the stairs, he bumped into the Headmistress as if she knew when Harry would leave her office.

“Everything went well?”

“We didn't mention the problematic topics. Do you happen to know if Professor Snape has another portrait than the one in your office?”

“It is highly possible that he possesses one into his own. I haven't checked.”

“And could I see it? I need to talk to him.”

Minerva frowned.

“May I ask why you're willing to talk to him of all people?”

Harry smiled sadly.

“I'm wondering if someone had thought of asking his opinion on memory loss since Hermione is beginning to be desperate.”

The Headmistress gaze turned softer.

“I don't reckon Miss Granger had thought about that. It can't hurt to try indeed.”

She snapped her fingers and a house elf appeared in front of her.

“Gipsy, can you go to Professor Snape's quarters and check if he's in a portrait? We will wait for your answer here.”

“Right now, Headmistress.”

The elf vanished with a loud “pop”. They waited in tensed silence. The elf's return made Harry jump.

“Professor Snape is waiting for you in his office, Headmistress.”

“Thank you for your help, Gipsy.”

The elf went back to the kitchen and the two wizards went towards the dungeons.

 

[…]

 

 

That same night, Harry stayed up late to write a letter to Hermione. He had learnt that she had not come to the library in the last few days and so a letter was the fastest way to contact her.

_“Dear Mione,_

_I hope everything's fine at the Burrow. I miss you, that's weird to be surrounded by adults and to be seen as one. I'm doing my best and actively helping the repairs. It's exhausting but I think you would like it. We're using tons of complicated spells to protect the castle's magic. But you probably know that better than I do so I'm going to show off with my meagre knowledge._

_I met Neville a few times since I've come here. He's looking after the plants during Sprout's vacations and he seems to be having fun! Also, I've talked to Dumbledore today, well to his portrait. I don't know if this is death's effect or if I never noticed that he wasn't as extremist as I thought. Maybe it was only the war forcing him to act that way and he would have been a truly different man in another time. Like Snape, if my mother hadn't left him._

_By the way, talking about the devil! I remembered your potion problem and I wondered if you'd asked Snape. As McGonnagall's told me you haven't, I tried to see his portrait to talk about it. And at least our dear potion master is staying true to his living self. I swear, even on the wall he was almost insufferable. But I suppose he wasn't expecting me to barge into his office when he was finally enjoying a well-deserved rest (McGonnagall told me that afterwards)._

_In short, he seemed impressed by your lack of solution since that means (sadly in this case) that your spell was very powerful. Usually, memory potions you can buy in the stores are sufficient to retrieve one's memory. He's maybe got an idea for you but you'll need to see him in person since, I am, and I'm quoting, “lacking every skill at the dangerous arts of potion making, and incapable of repeating accurate information even if it was a matter of life and death”. Now that sounds like him. Maybe you could tell him yourself what you've already tried. I'd like to make you smile saying that I made a big effort for getting information and he'd seemed as happy as I was, but I only hope that this will be of use._

_Take care, Mione._

_Harry”_

Not sure if he could sleep even if he was exhausted, Harry carried himself the letter to the owlery and gave it to one of the school's birds, a severe-looking Eagle Owl who left as soon as the letter was given to him. Harry's gaze followed him until he disappeared into the night.

Seeing the same day two of his deceased teachers had troubled him more than he had thought possible. It was so scary in a way to be able to talk to portraits as if everything was fine, whereas they were the shadows of the humans Harry used to know. He felt like he had fallen into a parallel dimension where the world he had known had been transfigured. To wander around at night without fear was unreal and it didn't even please him.

He thought again about what Dumbledore had told him. One thing was certain: he was not coming back to Hogwarts for the new term. Maybe he needed to get a change of atmosphere. Never once in his life had he been outside the United Kingdom. Even Ron and Hermione had been abroad. Yes, finally, there was something else to do that pleased him.

 

[…]

 

Harry stayed not two but four weeks because of various problems. Despite the care of the wizards and witches who had done the calculus and written the spells, some of them didn't react well together and one week of hard work vanished in an afternoon. At the beginning of the fourth week, when they checked the new protections, they also noticed that some holes hadn't been taken care of. The Headmistress looked worn out when Harry went into her office to say goodbye.

“Thank you for staying all this time, Potter. Kingsley has confessed you'd have preferred not to come. I can't help but be grateful that you came anyway.”

“Did I make such a difference?” He asked, frowning.

Minerva seemed to hesitate on her answer.

“If that makes you feel better, I thanked everyone the same way.”

“Oh,” he sighed. Relief was clear on his face.

“But nobody had to endure the same pressure as you, so I wanted to make sure you knew you didn't spend your time in vain.”

“Thank you, Professor. Honestly, it was nice to work with everyone here, far more than everything I've done... before.”

“What are you going to do now? I believe I've heard from Albus that you won't be joining us in September?”

“No, I won't. I don't think I can go to school again and pretend I'm still a teenager after everything I've been through this past year. I'm not going to follow Ron either at the Auror's school.

Harry sought something in the Headmistress' eyes, a flame that would tell him he was making the right choice, that she wasn't disapproving.

“Is there a place like Diagon Alley in France?” he asked suddenly.

“If my memories are alright, there's in Paris a magic alley and a Ministry of Magic.”

“Alright,” Harry whispered, his plans spinning in his head. “I was thinking... I could leave the country for a while to see what's out there. But...”

“But?”

“Nobody will let me go, right?”

Minerva offered a small smile.

“Potter, don't let anybody stop you if you believe you'd better somewhere else, you hear me? You've done your part in this war and you even helped with the repairs. You don't have any debt, except toward yourself. So if you wish to visit Paris, then by all mean, go and bring me back some sweets when you'll come around here.”

Her features were serious as usual and despite that Harry felt the tensed muscles of his stomach unknoting.

“Alright, Professor. Could you keep that information for yourself? I don't know yet what I'll tell the others.”

“I'll use it only if you stay too long without sending any news.”

This time he smiled frankly.

“I can do that.”

Harry packed his things, the ones he had brought with him and the ones he had gathered there, of which a Hogwarts' uniform without the House colours but with the school's motto, found on his bed on the first day. Every witch and wizard he had worked with the past four weeks had worn that same uniform, no doubt to unite them more in their common goal. There were also several plants seeds guaranteed without teeth and given to him by Neville when Harry had told him that he was leaving the country for a while.

His bag on his shoulder, he wandered one last time in the curiously silent corridors of the castle where he had spent the best years of his life. He walked to the domain's gate and took a deep breath before Apparating away, leaving his nostalgic memories behind.

 

[…]

 

Central London's smell seemed even the more aggressive after a month in Scotland. He took his breath in a narrow street and since it was dark already, went away without pretending to look natural. He walked among the passer-by for a time inebriated by the sudden solitude and freedom.

He soon became disillusioned when arriving at Grimmauld Place. His godfather's death, more recent than Remus Lupin's or Fred Weasley's, was still an open wound. The starkness of the frontage matching the inside, he didn't want to go in.

He stared blankly at the door for a solid ten minutes before climbing the three steps to the porch. He feared for a second that he would not be granted access even though Sirius had left the house to him and the Order wasn't using it anymore.

He touched the snake-headed door handle and the door opened with a long creaking. He slid into the narrow corridor and shut the door. Thanks to a quiet “Lumos” he walked toward the kitchen with his wand raised in front of him. He knew there was almost nothing to fear – Molly Weasley and her big clean-up had purged the vast majority of the dark magic items and Kreacher was supposed to be in Hogwarts. Harry was tempted to call him but as he was currently hiding, that wasn't necessarily a good idea.

But the thought of spending the night here alone wasn't appalling.

“Kreacher? Kreacher?”

He waited a bit, trying to remember what was the spell Hermione had taught him to light every lamp in a room instead of using solely his wand's Lumos. Kreacher appeared in the room when Harry finally cast the spell.

“Master Potter?” The elf mumbled.

“Hi, Kreacher. I'm going to stay here until tomorrow morning and I need your help. Can you bring some food from Hogwarts? You could leave them here. And if you could bring some clean sheets too, that'd be great. I'll call you back tomorrow, in the meantime, you can go back there or wander here, as you wish.”

The elf nodded then snapped his fingers and vanished. Harry sighed and left the room while leaving the lights on. He took back his wand and went upstairs to Sirius' room.

Nothing had changed since the last time. He put his bag on the bed and searched for paper, ink and a quill. He then sat at the desk to write. He had thought of writing a letter to Hermione for the last three days and he wouldn't have a lot of time the next morning.

“ _Dear Mione,_

_I am so glad to hear that your parents are doing better. I guess Snape can have all the glory. (sigh) Keep giving me updates, okay? By the way... I'm not going back to the Burrow, at least not now. Nor at the Ministry or Hogwarts. I need to go for a while. I'll write as soon as I can, but don't worry (I know you will) I'm not chasing troubles, honestly, I wouldn't mind a bit of rest. And before you ask, no, it has nothing to do with how it went at Hogwarts because it went well; I think I finally learnt a lot during my stay there. Ask McGonagall to tell you about it, I'm sure you can't wait._

_Good luck for September, and take care._

_Your friend,_

_Harry_ ”

He took a few breaths and kept going with another letter.

“ _Dear Ron,_

_I hope you'll not be angry for this; that's really not against you, it's just I who's suffocating. I'm leaving for a while, out of the country I guess, to travel and think about everything that has happened these past few years. I'll come back and I'll tell you everything in details. I'll also send owls when I can._

_Take my place by Kingsley, everybody will gain. I hope you'll be training to be a great Auror when I'll get back._

_Send love to all your family for me, I'm going to miss you lots. And tell your mother that I can cook and so I won't let myself starve. It should reassure her a bit._

_Your friend,_

_Harry_ ”

He folded the two messages and left them on the desk. He sprawled his spine and limbs then stood, deciding to check if Kreacher had done what he had asked.

On the kitchen's table, less dreary now that it was well lit, Harry found a basket covered with a tea towel and a pile of clean bedclothes close by. It would be easier to make his bed himself than to ask Kreacher to venture into Sirius' room.

Harry obtained from the basket four turkey sandwiches, a flask full of pumpkin juice, a box with fancy iced biscuits and two red apples.

He opened the flask and took a sip, then began eating the sandwiches. He was so hungry and lost in time. The lack of window in the house was making it hard to know.

He left the basket and went upstairs to Sirius' room where he made the bed, changed to his pyjamas and laid down, not really ready to sleep but not keen on wandering alone into the house. He had no plan four weeks ago and now he was facing a possibility that pleased him as much as it terrified him. Of course, he had spent months in the woods with Hermione and Ron and he shouldn't be hesitating so much about going abroad alone, but the circumstances weren't the same. He had done things under pressure and was saved thanks to Hermione's amazing surviving skills. After all, it was she who wore the bag with all their belongings and who learnt powerful hiding spells before the flight.

He would have to take care of himself for once. He stood up and searched into Sirius' things once more. He was satisfied to find a small leather covered notebook, blank but for a few pages which were covered with elegant writing. Harry wanted to tear them without reading but the temptation was too strong. To his surprise, he discovered that it wasn't his godfather's writing but his brother's, Regulus. The message didn't give him fundamental information, still, he felt shaken.

It was Regulus' last words to his brother Sirius. He told him without giving any details that he had finally betrayed his family, the Pure-Bloods, Voldemort and everything he was supposed to believe in. And as a result, it would be nice of Sirius not to try to strangle him the first time they would bump into each other in the afterlife since other people would try to do it in his place. His sharp sense of humour almost made Harry smile.

He decided to keep the pages in the notebook and only cast a dissimulation spell for precaution. He turned a few pages and began to write a list of thing to do from “Go to Gringotts” to “don't forget the letters”.

His sleep was far from calm which was far from surprising. He raised with the sun and put his things into his backpack. He spent more than an hour into the bathroom trying to transfigure his face into something less showy. He went out with long hair the colour of milk chocolate, in order to hide the scar he couldn't wipe away. Transfiguring the glasses proved more tricky. He ended up with rectangular ones.

He went into the room one last time to take the letters and the bag then went downstairs. It was troubling to leave the house. Even though it was oppressive, it was his last link to his godfather. He could close his eyes and imagine a young and rebel Sirius arguing with his parents or the rest of the world. A young and alive Sirius.

Harry shook his head. In the kitchen, he ate an apple and finished the pumpkin juice then put the rest in his bag for later. He then called Kreacher.

The elf came quicker than the previous day.

“Master Potter?”

“Could you drop these at the Burrow tonight?” He asked while holding the two folded papers out to him.

“Yes, master.”

“I'm going to be away for a while and I wouldn't need you. Do your best at Hogwarts, okay?”

The elf nodded and apparated. Harry glanced one last time around him and vanished from the ancient and noble house of Black.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what did you think about it? I think my sentences are sometimes awkward, I just don't know how to make them better. I hope at least the story is of interest *smile*. Let me know! And see you soon.~


	3. Canopy Alley

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!  
> Thanks for the love and support of the last chapter! As some of you may know, November means NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) and I think I have been doing this crazy challenge for five years now. Except that instead of writing a new original work, I'm currently translating this work for you guys (words are words after all). But maybe the guilt will catch me... I'll at least try to post another chapter this November.  
> Enjoy your reading!

Harry needed the Goblins for two reasons. Firstly, the most obvious one, to collect gold for the coming trip. Secondly, to ask questions about the french Diagon Alley because a magical lane necessarily means a bank nearby.

Since his clothes were muggles, the Goblin in duty welcomed him suspiciously. He didn't want to announce himself in the hallway so he told the Goblin his account number and asked politely to be received in private by the head Goblin.

He tried to forget that the last time he had been there, he had managed to steal from an ancient vault and set free a dragon. He hoped he wasn't looking guilty at the moment. He really didn't need to attract attention to him.

His conversation partner turned obsequious and showed him the door of a private office where Harry was welcomed less than two minutes later.

“Mr Potter, what can I do for you today?” The Goblin behind the desk gazed at him.

“I would like to pick up 40 galleons. You can debit your percentage if this is done discreetly and in half an hour.”

The Goblin called someone to take care of the request and send them away with Harry's small key. During that time, the young wizard was able to ask his questions.

“I need more information about Paris' Diagon Alley. Its name, how to find it, and if there's a bank there.”

After that, Harry could gloat to Ron about making a Goblin speechless.

“If my memories are to be trusted, it's called Canopy Alley. Let me check its location.”

The Goblin found the information in a thick volume chosen amongst many others in the bookshelf on Harry's right.

“Yes, that's it,” he mumbled while slowly turning the pages.

Harry wriggled on his chair, curious and impatient. The Goglin came back to his desk and wrote the address on a piece of parchment he then gave to Harry.

“You'll have to go there. It's a covered passageway with a glass roof where restaurants and muggle clothing shops occupy most of the place on the muggle side. Enter by the door and you'll find a staircase on your left. Go upstairs and you'll find yourself on the magical side.”

Harry listened carefully. It seemed easier than the Leaky Caldron's entry.

“What about the bank?”

“Gringotts have a branch there too. You'll face no problem to get money. You'll also be able to change galleons to french muggle money.”

Harry nodded with understanding.

“Thank you for this information.”

“May I ask a question, Mr Potter?”

“Go ahead.”

“How long are you leaving?”

“A few months, I guess. I don't know yet.”

The Goblin was speechless for the second time in an hour.

“So long?”

Harry stared at him without answering and the Goblin dropped the matter knowing he was pushing too far.

“Naturally, I didn't come here this morning and you have absolutely no idea of the place where Harry Potter might be. In the case someone, let's say the Minister for Magic, should ask you.”

The Goblin didn't seem pleased but for once Harry decided to be selfish and not care about people's feelings.

The employee came back then and gave Harry his key and money. Harry thanked him and gave an extra galleon to the Goblin who provided the intel. He almost asked him a way to travel to France but decided he would figure a way himself.

He opened the door when an idea struck him.

“Can I get muggle money here too?”

“Ask a clerk in the first hall.”

“Thank a lot.”

At the counter, he changed 15 galleons to 75 pounds and 5 galleons to 35 euros. He put the pounds in his right pocket and the euros in the left one. The thin notes were much more practical than the heavy coins in his backpack!

He left the bank hidden behind the anonymity of his new haircut. He was feeling fairly well if a bit tired. The night had been short and the excitement of being unidentified on Diagon Alley had moved on to frequent yawns.

The Quidditch's shop was still closed. He eyed the window display and smiled thinking of the many hours spent with Ron drooling over the brooms.

He carefully avoided looking at the magical creatures' shop.

He crossed the magical lane, empty at this hour of the day. He went into a clothing shop and bought a leather purse to stock his galleons. The object was hopefully charmed with two very useful spells: an enlargement one and a featherweight one.

He then stopped at Flourish and Blotts and was delighted to come across a book named  _Spells for travelling wizards_ . He flipped it through and was quickly convinced of its future usefulness. He paid 16 sickles and left the shop with a heavier backpack.

After the goodbyes to Hogwarts and Grimmaurd Place, it was time to say goodbye to Diagon Alley and the English magical community at large.

He decided to take a break at the Leaky Cauldron. He sat at an empty booth in a corner and ordered a pumpkin juice. The fact that he could now order alcohol didn't come through his mind. He brought his notebook and freshly acquired book out of his bag and noticed that he hadn't thought to acquire anything to write. Evidently, a bottle of ink could be dangerous if put into the bag containing all his possessions. A trip to a nearby muggle shop to buy pens was very much needed. In the meantime, he asked Tom if he could borrow him a quill.

He started by reading the book's introduction instead. The author thanked his sponsors and explained briefly the purpose of the volume. Harry then read the chapter's titles. The urgency right now was to lighten his bag. He read carefully the explanation and the spell, then practised on his backpack. He managed it on the third try. The bag now looked smaller and weighted only like a few books. It was good enough for the moment.

Satisfied, Harry skipped to Chapter 7:  _Traveling the muggle way_ . But what he had deemed to be an easier way out of the country not necessarily seemed a flawless plan now. How could he forget that he would need an ID card? They were not common in the wizarding world but he used to have one for himself in a cupboard at the Dursley's. He had tried to smile when the photograph was taken and his aunt had severely scolded him. The end result was a young Harry looking lost and too small for the frame. He shook his head and tried to think of the matter at hands.

Hopefully, the author explained how to deal with the situation. There was a spell to get a false ID. The author said that it was good enough to fool a Muggle but not a machine, so one needed to master the Confondus' spell in order to escape the control unharmed.

Following the instructions, Harry obtained after half an hour of trying a card looking like an example in the book. « James Evans », it said. « 18, England » - he didn't think to lie about his age too. Proud of himself, he pocketed the card and drank his juice.

He packed his stuff again, left a tip for Tom on the table and exited the place without turning back.

 

[…]

 

Four hours later, he said goodbye to muggle London by the long distance bus' window. The vehicle was crowded with excited people. Harry was, too, but he didn’t let it show on his face. He had been afraid when being controlled, afraid of not seeming « normal » enough, even if he had spent the majority of his life in the muggle world.

Everything had gone well though. He had been to the bus station and bought a ticket to Paris, with a departure the same day. The trip would last 8 hours but it was the safest way. The conductor had just taken a vague look at his ID and let him climb into the vehicle. The plane was faster but the controls were probably more thorough. Harry was sure about his Confondus’ spell and wanting to be on a plane for hours.

He was sitting in the last row of seats, with his hoodie on his head and his bag on his tighs, against his chest. When he was waiting for the bus he had the time to buy a few necessary things, such as a pen to write into the notebook, a pair of black t-shirts, a toothbrush, toothpaste and a towel. He added on an afterthought a French-English discussion guide.

Most of his belongings were now contained in this bag. He had left at the Burrow his few decent clothes, the Christmas gifts he had received the last eight years, Sirius' letters and his golden Snitch.

He was now the only master of his destiny and he was supposed to enjoy this more than ever before.

But as he saw the city of London slowly disappearing through the bus' windows, he found himself not so sure anymore.

Why was he always making decisions without taking everything into account beforehand? No, he shouldn’t think of it that way. He was right to leave. Even McGonagall had said so. Nevertheless, leaving to an unknown territory was somehow terrifying,

To take his mind off things, he took the notebook and next to his to-do list (going from « find the Alley » to « learn a few words in French »), he wrote the date and then described his day in a few sentences. The trip had started for real.

He slept a while and woke up around seven when the bus stopped into the shuttle. He ate the last sandwiches and the apple. The bus' lights were still lit so he buried his nose in the guide, hoping to learn something before his arrival.

The bus reached the last stop around eleven, local time. Harry rubbed his eyes, put his book away and took his bag on his shoulder. Then he exited the bus and wandered on the Parisian car park. It was almost completely dark. He stood without moving for a while, then decided to ask the bus' driver for any advice.

Five minutes later, he actually found an underground station.

Sadly the Goblin hadn't mentioned the closest station when giving him the Alley's location. Harry sighed and went underground.

Luckily, a middle-aged woman was dozing at a counter. Harry tore a page of Regulus' notebook and wrote the Alley's address on it. He approached the woman and made a sound to wake her up.

“Yes?” She asked, her voice drawling.

“Er, good evening. I need to go there, but I don't know how,” he explained in English while showing her the piece of paper.

“Quoi?”

“I need to go there,” he said again slowly. “How?”

She mumbled something Harry didn't get and typed on her keyboard. Then she copied an information on the back of Harry's paper.

He thanked her and wished her a good night. Thanks to his manners, she loosened up a bit and even said “good luck” when he left.

He would need some luck. His first obstacle was the vending machine. He had no idea of the right ticket to buy even though the machine could speak English. He has never taken the underground in his life.

In the end, he bought several tickets and one of them let him pass through the gates.

He sat on an empty seat in a noisy train and dozed off. Of course, he missed his stop. It was almost midnight when he left the underground to breathe some fresh air.

Twenty minutes later, he found Canopy Alley's entry. The streets were deserted and Harry lingered to look at the huge canopy gleaming under the street lights. He went in, find the corridor on his left and climbed the stairs. He closed his eyes without thinking, feeling kind of nauseous. When he opened them back, the scenery wasn't the same anymore.

He was on the first floor, on a mezzanine surrounded by a railing. Like downstairs, there was a row of shops on each side. The ground floor was noticeable,  even though it was blurry as if he were seeing it through the water. He understood that it was the magical protections allowing the wizarding world to stay hidden from the muggle one.

In the air, a huge and complex mechanism was floating. Its golden parts were shining and rolling on themselves, sometimes even vibrating. Harry was hypnotized and he stayed in front of the flying machine for a long time. He had no idea of what it could be.

He managed to get away for the sight. The mezzanine clothes shops, bookstore and apothecary were closed at this late hour. No Gringotts, no place to sleep in sight. He supposed it was just a small part of the Alley.

At the opposite of where he had come, he found stairs and went downstairs. He almost expected to feel nauseous again, however, it seemed he was still on the magical side.

A cobbled alleyway weaved in the shadows and separated in smaller portions. It looked like a real village. Each house had its own colour, in shades of orange and yellow, with several floors and lots of flowers at the green or grey doors. There were a few narrow wrought iron balconies, them too overloaded with flowers and plants. The village looked ancient but well cared for.

The few street lights had weird shapes. In the dark, Harry thought fireballs were floating in the air.

He followed the main road and soon the tall shape of Gringotts appeared before him. He sighed of relief. He wasn’t so lost after all if there was a bank!

He took left at the crossroad because there were more shops on this side. He walked for three or five minutes before finding a large and pale orange house with a wooden sign hanging on a chain. The picture figured a black cat sitting on a bed. It looked like an inn or something, right?

Some light filtered through the curtains and Harry decided to try his luck inside, also because it was late and he had no other option. He knocked on the door and waited for something to happen.

He was about to knock one more time when the door opened to show a cosy common room. The floor was made of dark wood and the walls were painted in a vibrant orange. There was an empty fireplace against the right wall, a grey carpet and various couches and sofas around it.

The door closed behind him and Harry turned his attention back on the person who had let him in. A young woman, with short dark hair and eyes full of curiosity.

“ I, er, no…”

He didn’t manage to remember any of the words he had learnt during the trip.

“ What can I do for you, fellow traveller?” she asked, her English surprisingly good.

“ I’m looking for a room tonight,” he said, relieved to be understood so easily.

“ This is your lucky day! Welcome at the Black Cat Inn. I’m Elia.”

“ Harry.”

“ Well, Harry. Let’s find you a room. I reckon you must be dreaming of a nice bed.”

He blinked like an owl and nodded. The vigour radiating from this young woman was comforting. She made a sign for him to follow her. They went upstairs, in a hall with a row of wooden doors. She stopped and retrieved her wand. She used a spell he had never heard before and smiled at him.

“ There was a time when we used keys, and our clients had a tendency to lose them. So we replaced the keys with passwords. Well, before that they were supposed to say the password with their own wand but some people also lose their wands… So, now, what is your password?”

Harry had listened carefully hoping he had understood everything. She was speaking too cheerfully for midnight, even in his mother tongue.

He said the first word that came to his mind.

“ Sock.”

Obviously, the thought brought back pictures of Dobby to his mind. He heard Elia softly laugh behind him. She stopped when he looked at her, but the smile didn’t disappear from her face.

“ I’m sorry, I shouldn’t laugh,” she said, more out of manners than sincerity.

Harry found himself unable to resent her for it. He would have laughed too, in her place. It was really a stupid password. And unpredictable. Which meant it was safe.

“ It’s done. You may try to enter now.”

Harry said the password again, and the door opened. Elia fought not to laugh again and turned on the lights. The walls were a pale green, the floor grey. The colours reminded him of Slytherin’s, but with less substance. How ironic.

“ If you need anything, I’ll be in the common room downstairs until tomorrow morning. Good night!”

“ Thank you, and good night.” 

She waved at him and closed the door behind her. Harry was now alone in this unknown room. It looked bigger on the inside, but it was after all a magical building. In front of him, a double bed. It was extremely tempting to fall on it and sleep until morning. On his right, near the door, a large cupboard. He went deeper into the room to find another door, opening on a small bathroom. In front of the door and on the bed’s right, a desk and a chair under a window. The curtains were shut. He put his bag on the surface and laid on the bed without even taking his clothes off.

 

[…]

 

He woke up a bit confused the next morning. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand and gazed at the ceiling before getting up. There wasn’t a sound in the room which glowed under the sunlight.

He took his wand and spelt a Tempus. It was past ten. He threw the bag’s contents on the bed’s covers and retrieved some clean clothes and his toiletries. He hadn’t taken a shower since his last day at Hogwarts, which was an eternity ago.

When he dried his hair in front of the mirror, he noticed that his physical spell had gone off during his sleep. He thought about the possibility of not using it again. After all, he wasn’t in Great Britain any more and he doubted anyone had followed him here.

He only made sure his scar was hidden behind his mop of dark hair. He looked like his fifteen-year-old self again, but with a squarer jaw.

He put a clean t-shirt on and the pair of jeans he wore the previous day, then put everything he'd used back into the bag. He couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit paranoid. What if he had to flee all of the sudden? This way, all his stuff was with him - and it wasn’t like it weighed much!

His bag on his shoulder, he closed his room and descended the stairs. Music was blaring from nowhere in sight. A man reading the newspapers was sitting on a couch. Suddenly, a woman appeared from behind the counter. She was older than the one who had welcomed him, wore a cream coloured dress and a blue necklace. Her hair was long and dark, arranged into a bun falling on her neck.

“ Are you Harry?”

She didn’t look threatening and furthermore, she could speak English. Harry calmed down a bit.

“ Yeah, I am.”

She smiled softly.

“ Well, we’ll have to fill some papers in regarding your stay. Come here!”

He moved closer to her. His eyes widened when he saw her using a laptop. He had never seen one in the wizarding world. She made a gesture and the music lessened. Did it work with magic on top of that?

“ Oh, I almost forgot. I’m Céleste, and I’m the tenant of this modest inn. My daughter had welcomed you last night.”

The tenant was smaller and had a few white strands in her otherwise dark hair, but Harry could now see more clearly the links between Elia and her.

“ She’s pretended you were too tired to complete the papers last night, but I reckon she wanted to leave it to me.”

Céleste spoke fondly of her daughter, even though she was criticizing her behaviour.

“ So,” she said while looking at the laptop’s bright screen. “Name?”

“ Harry Evans,” he answered without hesitation.

“ Duration of your stay?”

“ Unknown?”

She looked at him curiously.

“ At least a week,” he finally announced.

“ Where do you come from? It’s for our stats.”

“ London.”

She raised her eyebrows.

“ Oh? It seems to be quite frequent these days. You’re far from alone.”

He only smiled neutrally.

“ I’m going to ask you to pay now for two nights and the remainder at the end of the week. Seems good to you?”

“ How much for two nights?”

“ 6 galleons, 8 sickles and 5 knuts, with the breakfast fee.”

He would have to go to Gringotts before the end of the week! He rummaged through his bag, got the purse, counted the money and handed it to Céleste who thanked him.

“ If you’re hungry, the dining room is downstairs.”

She turned back and showed him stairs at near the hearth.

“ This way. There’s also a bar opened at night.”

“ Thank you.”

She left her laptop on the counter and went inside a room Harry hadn’t noticed before. Probably a cleaning or storage room for the staff. Harry decided that eating something wasn’t a bad idea.

The dining room was decorated in the same way as the common room: orange on the walls, dark wood on the floor. A counter occupied the empty space behind the staircase, and the rest of the room was furnished with tables and chairs. The single door probably led to the kitchen.

The room was deserted and he didn’t know what to do. Should he go up and ask Céleste? When the idea hit him, he noticed an old woman coming toward him. She had very long white hair braided neatly on her right shoulder. She said something in French and he answered:

“ Désolé, je comprends pas.”

She rolled her eyes and showed him a table while speaking quickly in French. He sat and looked at her without knowing what to answer. She shrugged and went to the kitchen while mumbling to herself.

He waited for her to come back, thinking that this inn was inhabited with peculiar characters. 

The old woman came back less than five minutes later. A meal tray was levitating before her. Harry turned his head and thanked her in French - he at least managed this. She nodded approvingly and left him alone.

On the table before him, three white pots full of coffee, cream and sugar, a glass of fresh orange juice and several pieces of crunchy bread, along with butter and cherry jam. Harry ate everything he could, feeling serene and almost fine for the first time in too long.

The old woman came to clean up behind him and he wished her a fine day.

The man was no longer reading in the living-room and Céleste was chatting with a young boy. Not knowing what to do, Harry sat on a couch. He had all the time in the world, after all. Nothing urged. Yes, taking his time, that sounded like the right thing to do.

He updated his to-do list in Regulus’ notebook. Then he began another list: questions to ask at any moment. At first sight, the French wizarding community had many unalike facets from the only one he knew.

He also read a chapter of his new book, hoping to learn a few useful spells.

He tore his gaze from the words when someone sat on the couch to his right. Elia was smiling brightly.

“ Hi, Harry! Slept well?”

“ Fine, thank you. I almost felt on the bed.”

“ You looked like a ghost from kilometres away.”

“ Well, if I understood correctly, that’s the excuse you told Céleste to avoid filing the papers in?”

She smiled, not at all repentant.

“ I see you’ve met my dear mother.”

“ Yes, I have. Are there only women here?”

“ Of course! This inn had always been ruled by women. My grandmother's still in the game, but it’s my mother who works the most. And I’m also here to learn about literally everything.”

Harry heard the pride in her voice. Her grandmother, she’s just said?

“ Would she be the charming old woman who offered me breakfast downstairs?”

She put her hands on her hips, giving the impression that she was angry.

“ You’re lucky I don’t really know if you’re serious or mocking. Yes, that's my grandma, Marthe. She hasn’t got all her spirits, she’s mostly spending her days mumbling to herself, but she’s not mean on purpose, and she is an amazing cook.”

“ I reckon she isn’t the one behind the bar at night?”

Elia rolled her eyes.

“ This is my job, same as night check-in. I work until six in the morning and then I go to bed, and from midday, I’m on duty again for another day.”

Harry couldn’t help but smile.

“ D'you find something funny?” 

“ No, I’m not… mocking you or anything.” He said quickly. “I’ve just never met someone my age so invested in their work.”

She made a face.

“ I already knew it always rained in your country, but now it seems even less pleasant.”

Harry wanted to retort something, then noticed she was probably annoying him on purpose. He changed the subject.

“ And what do you do during the day, when you’re not welcoming lost strangers?”

“ I hang out with friends in the muggle city or I wander around here hoping to meet one or two interesting travellers.”

“ Oh, am I an interesting traveller?”

“Perhaps . We'll see.” She answered and winked.

It was easy to talk to Elia and he wasn’t bored, but it was nice to know that she was feeling the same.

“ So, not that I’m not enjoying myself here, but I wanted to show you around. You’d like? Mom said you’ll stay at least a week.”

“ Yes, that's right. Depends on what I’ll find to do here.”

“ I see. Did you come here without planing anything? Because this is what it seems like.”

“ That’s close from the truth. To be completely honest, I’ve learnt about the Alley only a few days ago.”

“ When you say it like that, the Alley looks like the best thing to see, worth the trip from England. Well, I think it is. It should be in every travel guide.”

Harry rubbed the back of his head. He wanted to be honest and tell her how he had arrived here, but he also needed to know her better before that.

“ It would be very nice of you to show me around, since I haven’t ventured out yet, and it was quite dark last night.” 

“ Great! I’m gonna tell Mom, just a second!”

She left without mentioning how he had avoided completely her question. Harry put the spell book in his bag and got up to wait for her near the door.

“ Mooom, I’m going out,” she all but yelled from behind the counter.

She didn’t wait for an answer and joined Harry, bouncing excitedly.

“ Done!” She only said. “Let’s go.”

  
  


[...]

  
  


Two hours later, Harry’s feet hurt like hell. Otherwise, he felt fine, if not better than when he’d woken up. He was now convinced that Elia was the best guide he could have found, even if he wasn’t going to tell her that. They already liked to tease each other.

The two of them had bonded in the few hours spent together. Harry didn’t know how it was possible to trust someone so fast, even though Elia wasn’t especially threatening unless someone spoke badly on her inn.

Elia was funny, full of energy and resources. She teased him a lot and didn’t insist when she felt that he was touchy about some topics. Yes, she was curious too, but respectful.

There were seated at a café. Harry told her about the Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop's fiasco and she assured him there was no pink confetti in their current location. Pinky swear.

“ So, is it like your Diagon Alley?”

He bit into a croissant and was polite enough not to talk with his mouth full. Elia was toying with her coffee cup.

“ They’re very different. Canopy is far more coloured. It’s also more lively, but that’s not easy to compare since Diagon’s visits have lessened because of the war. People are only beginning to venture out, the shops have new owners… Here, it seems like nothing had happened.”

Elia managed an awkward smile.

“G ood to know that not everyone has suffered,” Harry whispered to himself.

This was not the first time in the afternoon that Elia noticed his tensed demeanour. She guessed that the war which had turned the United Kingdom to pieces had also cost him a great deal on a personal level. She didn’t allow herself to ask more questions. It was his first day on Canopy Alley and she wanted him to enjoy it. And furthermore, she wasn't one to put her nose in other people private matters. This was one thing she had learnt while working with her mother at the inn and from meeting a lot of people from a young age.

“ What else did you think about the Alley?” She asked to bring back the subject on safer grounds.

“ The shops! That’s crazy, you’re selling muggle things here!”

“ Just because we didn’t make them doesn’t mean we can’t sell and use them ourselves!”

“True.  By the way, how come you have electrical power?”

She gazed at him intently.

“ Why, are you guys cooking with wood and reading with candles?”

He rubbed the back of his neck with a shameful look.

She laughed, sceptical.

“ Seriously, you are super weird. Why don’t you take advantage of the Muggles’ knowledge?”

“ I’ll admit it was confusing to discover the wizarding world,” the young man said.

Even if the mobile phones were less frequent than now.

“ What do you mean, discover?”

“ Oh, right.” He had forgotten that he’d only met her the previous night.  “ I’ve lived with Muggles until I was ten and then I left for Hogwarts. I didn’t know the wizarding world before and that’s true, I’ve thought several times that the wizards were less advanced than Muggles’ regarding technology. But I thought it was the same in the other countries.

“ You don’t mingle with Muggles, right?”

“ Unfortunately, yes. A lot of Pure-Blood families don’t want to let go of their social ranks and so-called superiority.

“ And when you see the result…” Elia whispered.

Harry only nodded. He finished his pastry and pushed his coffee cup toward Elia who didn’t need more prompting to drink it along with her own.

“ To answer your question, maybe you’d seen the machine at the mezzanine when you came here?”

“ Yes, what about it?”

“ It’s converting muggle electrical power into an energy we can use behind the heavy magical protections of the Alley. It also allows us to use mobile phones, Internet, and every tech the Muggles can invent.”

Harry thought of Arthur Weasley and his love for Muggles. If he had lived in France, maybe his wife wouldn’t harass him to throw out his electrical wires collection.

“ That’s awesome. Honestly, it would have been easier for me to live in the wizarding world if it had been like this.  Because trying to write with a quill when you’d only learnt with a pen result in having a terrible handwriting. And people thought I didn’t care enough to write properly! I also remember Hermione, my best friend, telling me one that mobile phones couldn’t work in Hogwarts, because of the protections.”

“ Hermione? I’ve heard that name before. Is it common in your country?”

That unsettled Harry. What was the chance of them talking about the same person?

“ I don’t really know. I only know about her.”

“ I didn’t go to Beaubâtons, so I don’t know about the muggle’s things regulation there. Either way, my mom was against it until I turned sixteen… She used to say that when one could send a message through a fireplace, one didn’t need a phone.

He made a face to show his support.

“ You didn’t go to Beauxbâtons?” He repeated.

She waved goodbye at the waiter behind the counter and ushered Harry to follow her out of the café.

“ I’ve received my letter when I was ten and it was exciting, but if I had left, I would have abandoned the inn, and how to rule it one day if I’m only there two months a year? So I didn’t go.”

“ How did you do, then?”

“ My mother had hired private teachers and I’ve read a lot on my own. I've passed my exams with other young wizards at the Ministry of Magic.”

“ Wait…” Harry furrowed his brows.

“ What about the regulations, not using magic out of school, Muggles protection, the like?”

“ A lot of French kids don’t go to magical school, so there are special rules. You need to have strong barriers around your house or the place where you train, and as long as there’s no accident, the Ministry doesn’t bat an eyelash. That’s a well-oiled system.”

“ Seriously, I don’t get how they can be so fussy about old procedures in my country.”

She smiled widely.

“ That’s the French’s charm. Wanna bet you’re still here in a month?”

Harry throw a glance toward his new friend, then to the warm coloured buildings around them and breathed deeply. He could actually see himself staying here.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! What did you think of it? Will Harry stay in Paris? What will he do there? Is Elia trustworthy? Is she crushing on him?  
> I hope you're still liking it! Don't hesitate to tell me anything in the comments.  
> See you soon ~


	4. A newcomer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone and happy new year!! I hope you all enjoyed the holidays. I got a few days off from work and that was a blessing. (I also read a lot in December so sadly for you it meant I wasn't writing or editing...) 
> 
> Speaking of which! We can all thanks alpha_dawg for her amazing work as a beta on this chapter. She not only rephrased the awkward sentences but also told me what was really useful for the story. Any remaining mistakes are my own.
> 
> Enjoy your reading!

A fortnight into his stay, Harry found himself growing use to the company of the three women who ran the Black Cat inn. In that time, his familiarity with their language grew and, although he still found himself stumbling through sentences, he could now confidently tell Marthe what he wanted to eat for breakfast He even managed to compliment her on her handmade cherry jam, earning him a smile instead of her usual sneer.

Harry also found himself growing in familiarity to the numerous restaurants of the Alley, despite his common outings to the muggle side – a place where he became acquainted with the colourful world of Indian cuisine. He wandered around in the afternoon, enjoying his anonymity to mingle amongst the tourists. Paris, he found, wasn’t so different from London – save for the architecture.

Elia filled his evenings with lessons of how to be a perfect barman. Conversation rarely found an end as she had plenty to say, filling any small silence with jokes or small rambles. A part of him felt comfort in her freedom to feel so open with him. He wondered if she spoke so much due to her lack of company her age, a small tug at his gut quelling in sympathy. His summers at the Dursleys had acquainted him with that.

His time in the alley quieted the anxiety that had followed him since the end of the war.

Some mornings, before blurred dreams and bleary reality had fully separated, he found himself wondering if his past was but a dream. He could almost convince himself it had never happened. That he hadn’t fought the Dark Lord, hadn’t sacrificed everything. Hadn’t lost his parents.

Some mornings, he could almost convince himself that he didn’t tighten his grip on his wand anytime something moved too fast in the corner of his eye.

Elia knew that he was keeping things from her. He could tell by the stumbling of her tongue when conversation drifted too close to the war and the careful tone she picked up to keep the mood light. Harry found himself grateful for the insight years spent in the inn mingling with strangers that taught her to read a someone like a book.

He knew someday he would tell her his past – at least some parts of it. Experience told him the coils around his gut would loosen if he talked to someone – burying it can only take him so far. In the very least, Elia offered the chance to make kinder memories for a change.

On a particularly bright morning, Harry found himself startle by the sound of yelling. A man stood in front of Céleste. Composure calm, she looked on at the man with a bored and impatient look. That is, until the man smacked his fist against the counter.

On his legs in an instant, Harry ran towards the two. But before he could intervene, the man was sent flying backward through the door. Céleste put down her wand before letting out a long breath. She glanced up when she noticed Harry staring at her.

In answer to his curious gaze, she shrugged her shoulders.

“Some customers don’t understand manners, and we have to use the force to get rid of them. This one bothers us any time he’s staying here. Says service isn’t good enough and believes it is his god given right to pay less. I’m considering not letting him in the next time.”

“At least you know how to make them take the door.”

A small laugh in the form of a huff escaped her lips.

“This spell had its utility, that’s true. You should see my daughter. I swear, the girl makes the customers fly.” She explained, a fond smile lighting up her lips. “Don’t tell her I said that she will think I support it.”

“Cross my heart,” Harry said, hands up in mock surrender.

Céleste made a move toward the back room, before hesitating and turning back around.

“Do you have some free time this morning?”

“For you? I could find a minute.”

She rolled her eyes before continuing. “I have urgent letters that need to be sent, but our owl hasn’t come back yet and I can’t leave the inn. Could you go to the post office for me?”

“Of course,” Harry answered, happy to do something productive for once.

“I’m offering you tomorrow’s breakfast in exchange.”

“You don’t have to.”

He would have to go to Gringotts anyway, his money was melting away like snow in the sun.

“I want to. You were ready to help a bit earlier and now you’re doing something for me, that’s the least I can do”.

“You did fine on your own.”

Céleste’s gaze shone of pride.

“Even so, it’s comforting to know the cavalry is close by. Come here, I’ll give you the letters,” she continued, digging through her pockets. “And be sure to tip a sickle. One never knows how far a little extra can get you in service.”

A pocket full of change and handful of letters later, Harry found himself in front of a tall and narrow house whose exterior greatly resembled that of a church tower. Owls could be heard from far away, and upon approaching, Harry saw a large opening in the façade where numerous birds perched.

There weren't many customers inside, only an old lady chatting with a clerk. Harry raised his head and noticed that the exposed beams were also covered in birds. Thanks to a bunch of enchanted brooms, the floor was hopefully clean.

“Monsieur?” one of the clerks called. [“Sir?”]

Harry hadn’t noticed the old lady leaving the building.

“Il faut envoyer ces lettres, c’est urgent, s’il vous plaît.” [“I need to send these letters. Urgent, please.”]

“C’est 3 mornilles and 14 noises.” [“That’s 3 sickles and 14 knuts.”]

Harry paid one sickle more, welcomed with a smile by the clerk.

“Bonne journée, monsieur.” [“Have a nice day, sir.”]

“Vous aussi,” Harry answered while leaving. [“You too.”]

Back on the Alley, he found himself idle again. The visit to the bank was brief, and by the hours end, he was walking back to the inn. He passed several colourful buildings. There was a bakery with pastel loafs and sweet aromas, as well as a small wand shop. A particularly menacing artefact shop which wouldn’t have been in contrast in Knockturn Alley caught his eye, as well as an apothecary. But it was the pet shop that piqued his interest.

His mind flashed to white feathers and comforting brown eyes, a flash of green and a small form falling from the sky.

Replacing her felt impossible. Was impossible. For a time, he considered getting a new owl – one with nothing in common, so as to never feel as though he was replacing her. He had grown up with her by his side. Perhaps, he thought, it was time to find a companion for his adult life.

He pushed the door open. The walls inside matched the frontage, and Harry noticed that the animals in the shop window were simply figurines which moved like their models. It reminded him of the tiny dragons during the Triwizard Tournament.

Two people were standing behind the counter at the end of the room, an adult and a teenager.

“Bienvenue chez Berger et fille, Animaux pour sorciers. Je suis Anthony Berger et voici ma fille, Diane.” [“Welcome to Berger and daughter, Creatures for wizards. I’m Anthony Berger and this is my daughter Diane.”]

His daughter didn’t seem older than fifteen years old but she was as tall as Harry and had a confident smile.

“Bonjour, je suis venu pour... “ [“Hello, I’ve come for…”]

Harry stopped, hesitating.

“Nous avons des hiboux, des chouettes, des corbeaux, un mainate, des serpents...” Anthony began. [“We have owls, ravens, one myna, snakes…”]

“Trois lézards, des crapauds, des grenouilles, des chats...” Diane added. [“Three lizards, toads, frogs, cats…”]

“Un couple de furet et des lapins. “ [“A pair of ferrets and rabbits.”]

Around him, Harry only saw the vivariums and the myna, perched next to the counter.

“Vous ne gardez pas tous les animaux ici?” [“You don’t keep all your animals here?”]

“Notre animalerie est très réputée et nous avons beaucoup de visiteurs. Tout ce monde créé du tapage auquel les animaux ne réagissent pas toujours très bien. Les reptiles et les amphibiens sont ceux qui sont le moins sensibles au bruit, ils ressentent les vibrations, mais ils seront moins affectés qu’un oiseau si un enfant se met à crier,” Anthony explained. [“Our pet shop is very well-known and we have a lot of customers. It’s too noisy for some animals. The reptiles and amphibians are the less sensitive to the noise, they feel the vibrations but they’re not going to be as upset as a bird if a child starts to yell. That’s why they’re here.”]

“Les hiboux et les chouettes sont pour la plupart des animaux nocturnes, on les garde dans une pièce plus sombres où ils peuvent être tranquilles pendant la journée. Et les lapins préfèrent éviter de se faire caresser à longueur de temps,” Diane added. [“The owls are for the most part nocturnals so we keep them in a darker room where they can be at ease during the day. And the rabbits also prefer not to be pet all day.”]

Harry didn’t understand everything, but through the bits he got, their belief made sense. They kept the animals hidden to protect them from the customers.

“Je suis venu voir les hiboux et les chouettes. Ma chouette est morte. Je crois que je suis prêt à adopter un autre oiseau.” [“I’ve come to see the owls. Mine’s dead. I think I’m ready to adopt a new one.”]

The man smiled at him.

“Nous pouvons vous montrer nos oiseaux. Diane, tu veux bien t’en occuper?” [“We can show you our owls. Diane, you’re feeling up to it?”]

“Pas de problème. Venez monsieur, euh...” [“Sure. Come with me, mister…”]

“Evans.”

Diane made a sign for him to follow her behind the counter. They arrived in a corridor with many identical doors and the teenager pushed the second one open. Harry entered after her and discovered a large owlery. The floor was covered with shavings of wood as well as bushes and trees. It looked like a miniature forest, not a pet shop.

“On en a douze, vous croyez que vous pouvez tous les trouver?” The teenager said, challenging him. [“There’re twelve of them, do you think you can find them all?”]

He found eight of them, a nice score according to Diane. She told him their name when he found one, but his French was limited, and he hadn’t thought to learn about the birds’ names in this language yet.

“Il y en a un qui vous attire?” [“Is there one you like?”]

He scanned the room and found back the first owl he had looked at and the most alert.

“Le petit, là.” [“The small one, there.”]

Diane nodded.

“C’est Aderyn, une chouette chevêche, ou chevêche d’Athéna, symbole de sagesse chez les Moldus comme chez les sorciers.” [“That’s Aderyn, a Little owl, also known as Athene noctus, a symbol of wisdom for the Muggles and Wizards alike.”]

She whistled and the bird smoothed its feathers. A second later, it flew to land on Diane’s extended arm.

“Elle vous plaît?” [“You like her?”]

The owl was small and round, with brown and white speckled feathers, yellow eyes and an intense gaze.

“Je l’aime beaucoup. Je crois que je vais la prendre.” Harry answered, heart brimming with excitement. [“Very much. I think I’m going to take her.”]

“Parfait ! Tu as trouvé une famille, beauté,” Diane whispered to the bird. [“Perfect! You’ve found yourself a family, beauty.”]

They went back into the shop, where Diane cajoled the bird into settling inside the small cage.

“Elle n’est pas habituée aux barreaux, j’espère que vous aurez la possibilité de la laisser en liberté le plus possible.” [“She’s not used to be in a cage, Be sure to let her fly and perch freely as much as possible.”]

“Je vais faire de mon mieux,” Harry promised. [“I’ll do my best.”] He knew a thing or two about being trapped.

Anthony cast a spell on a piece of parchment and handed it to him.

“Quelques conseils sur son mode de vie. Si vous restez dans le coin et qu’elle tombe malade, vous pouvez nous l’amener.” [“A few tips about her lifestyle. If you’re staying around here and she’s sick, you can bring her to us.”]

Harry thanked them both warmly for their time and advice, paid for the owl and some snacks, exiting the shop with the cage under his arm and a smile that refused to leave his face.

When he returned to the inn, he found Céleste cleaning up the common room and singing softly to herself. She nodded at Harry in acknowledgement when he put the change behind the counter, before bolting up to his room.

Excitedly, he placed the cage on the desk before then opening the small door. The owl hooted, a shrill sound much higher than the likes of Headwig, before stepping out and gazing at Harry.

“Hello, Aderyn”, he said slowly.

His words seemed to be all the permission she needed to explore her new surroundings. Naturally, she noticed the snacks next to the cage first. He opened the pack and took a snack in his palm. Then, he stayed with his palm toward her without moving until she trusted him enough to peck at the snack before going to eat it in a corner.

He filled a tiny bowl with water and began to read the parchment Anthony had given him. He didn’t understand much. To be honest, he was not sure what he was expecting to happen. Instead, he told himself to ask Elia or Céleste later about its content.

“I’m going to leave for lunch, you’ll stay here?”

Aderyn glanced up at him.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

He rubbed the back of his neck and took his backpack.

“See you later.”

She offered him a hoot before he closed the door.

On the last few steps, he was greeted by a very excited Elia, who had narrowly missed running into him in her enthusiasm.

“Harry!” Elia seemed even more alert than usual.

“Hi, Elia!”

“Sleep well? I was coming to fetch you.”

“Why did you want to see me so early?”

“I have to pick my girlfriend up in two hours, I thought you’d want to come with me to have lunch before that.”

Harry froze. “You have a girlfriend?”

Elia’s smile tensed. “Do you have a problem with that?”

Oh.

“My only problem is the time it’s taken you to tell me!” he said sincerely.

She rolled her eyes, shoulders relaxing in relief. “You scared the shit out of me, you moron. So, do you want to come?”

“I want to, but won’t I intrude?”

“Of course not, since I’m asking you.”

“Okay, but you’ll have to tell me everything.”

The young woman’s eyes shone. “Deal.”

Céleste was looking at them, leaning on her enchanted vacuum cleaner.

“Shoo, the both of you. People are trying to work here.”

The two friends left the inn laughing.

  


[…]

 

The ate in Harry’s favourite Indian restaurant on the muggle side, near the Alley’s entrance. While they shared a meal of kasundi paneer tikka, cucumber raita and saffron basmati rice, Elia began her story.

“We met two years ago during the summer break, right into the inn's living room. She lived in England and was spending a few days in Paris before leaving for the South. She was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen, that with her glorious hair and unique demeanor. I instantly know I wasn't going to let her go before we had a chance to be something together, you know what I mean?” She didn't wait for an answer. “So I breathed in and went to introduced myself to her. Turned out Céleste had talked about me minutes ago and she seemed to recognize me as if we had been friends for a while. That was nice and curious at the same time. Anyway, we started talking and I know how that sounds but suddenly nothing else existed but us. Céleste came to tell me how late it was and I wouldn't believe her. “ She smiled softly. “Hopefully she too was attracted to me because we spent the next three days without leaving the other out of sight. We talked about everything and anything without even venturing outside because we knew we were short on time and we didn't want to lose any of it. Too soon, her dad decided they had to move and we had to say goodbye to each other. We already knew we would find any occasion to meet again but that didn't make that moment any easier.” She shrugged. “We hadn't met a lot since then, especially during the school year, but we've written a ton of letters and spent the holidays together.”

Elia had finished the story on a more cheerful note and Harry authorized himself a delighted smile at her obvious happiness, even though he didn't know her girlfriend yet.

“I'm curious about meeting her.”

He didn't want to ask many questions and they resumed eating without talking much.

After the meal, Harry and Elia apparated near the Ministry of Magic, situated next to the Louvre Museum, right in the city centre. If in England, the entrance was through a phone booth, in Paris it was through the closest underground station. Elia explained that the Muggles could see the direction “Ministry” but the powerful spells protecting the space made them forget about it instantly.

Then, a clerk at a desk delivered them badges which only utility was to open the magnetic gate. Passing the gate was like at Platform 9 ¾ or the entrance of Canopy Alley. They instantly found themselves in the lively main hall of the Ministry.

It was far more up-to-date than its English counterpart. The floor was covered of bright dark tiles and the walls were painted in light grey. The ceiling was made of glass and the light of day enshrouded the room. The hall was, in fact, a rotunda, a circular room from where a multitude of corridors began. Harry raised his head and noticed balconies up in the air.

“Come here, this way,” Elia said while grabbing his arm to tear him from his sight and avoid losing him in the crowd.

She must have been here a few times since she didn’t seem to hesitate at the crossroads. They arrived in a reasonably sized hallway. A sign on the wall indicated “International Portkeys”. A small witch wearing a deep blue dress and glasses was seating at a desk and other people were waiting there.

“Bonjour madame. Le portoloin de Bucarest via Munich est-il arrivé?” Elia asked the witch. [“Hi Ma’am. Has the Portkey from Bucarest via Munich arrived yet?”]

“Il ne devrait pas tarder, ma chérie,” she answered. [“Should be any minute now, honey.”]

Elia thanked her and they went to sit.

“Even if we’ve been together for more than a year, I’m always nervous before meeting her again,” she confessed in hushed tones.

Harry looked at her expression. Her hands fidgeted restlessly, the corner of her lip trapped between her teeth as she looked on silently.

“You’re afraid she’d changed in the meantime?”

“No, not really. More that, because we only communicate through letters, sometimes the first day we don’t know what to say to each other. We lose the habit of being able to talk about meaningless things. And that’s a bit awkward.”

“I can get that. I mean, that’s the same with Hogwarts, when you’re there and your family and friends are away, you don’t see them often and when you do, well, it feels weird at the beginning. But then, everything goes well, right?”

“Yeah, I’m just nervous, but we never had a problem.”

“That’s good,” Harry added with a soft smile.

He must admit that he was impatient to meet her girlfriend.

“You’ve had a girlfriend before, Harry?”

“What makes you think I’m only attracted to women?” He said, on principle.

“Because you wouldn’t have let me do my coming-out alone earlier,” she retorted back.

“You’re not wrong…”

“So?”

“I’ve had a girlfriend. Two, actually. Well, one of them was more like a fling, but…”

She threw him a suggestive glance.

“I didn’t know you were such a lady-killer,” she mocked him. “Did it end badly?” she asked, more seriously.

“Yes and no. I thought I was really in love with her, but now, after taking a step back, I wonder if it was true love. I keep some good memories, a touch of regrets, and the need to be alone for now.”

Elia frowned, not knowing if she should tease or comfort him. She hadn’t the time to figure it out since someone came toward them.

“Elie, you still have a Wrackspurt roaming around you,” the newcomer announced in an airy voice.

Harry knew that voice. He raised his head and his first instinct was to succumb to panic. Was it real? Elia smiled widely without noticing her friends’ state.

“Mooncalf!” she shouted.

She stood up and threw herself in the open arms of the blond-haired newcomer. Harry stayed on his chair, astounded, replaying in his head everything Elia had told him and everything she had forgotten to tell: especially that her girlfriend was, in fact, Luna Lovegood.

Luna had tied her hair in a bun with a paintbrush and numerous tangled strands fell on her shoulders. She was wearing her usual radish shaped earpieces and a golden yellowed dress. She was making a curious contrast with Elia, her dark short hair and darker clothes.

The two young women broke their hug.

“Hello, Harry,” Luna said.

She was the only one not one bit surprised. Elia widened her eyes when she heard her girlfriend calling Harry by his name.

“You two know each other?”

“Harry saved my life.”

“Indeed,” Elia mumbled. “Well, let’s come home, so you can explain everything to me.”

They took the underground by request of Luna, who was tired of wizarding transportation after the two Portkeys she had taken that day. Harry found the scene in front of him even more surreal than when he had come here for the first time. He was wearing Muggle clothes, in the Parisian underground with a new friend he met two weeks earlier and an old one whose history with him spanned what felt like a lifetime, but for that same reason was a huge surprise.

Harry noticed that the two young women were holding hands and that Elia seemed more relaxed, even if she was throwing glances back and forth between himself and Luna, no doubt wondering what she missed about them.

It was three in the afternoon when they made it to the inn. Céleste’s face lightened up as she stood up to take Luna in her arms.

“You’re even more beautiful than the last time I saw you,” she said to the blond, stroking her shoulder in a way only a mother could.

“I didn’t find a better inn this time either,” Luna added as if it made sense to announce. Well, maybe it did for Céleste.

“I knew it. Welcome home, Luna.”

Céleste let Luna go and Elia turned toward her mother.

“Mom, can we go to the house with Harry? I promise I’ll be on time for my shift.”

“Go on, have fun,” the tenant nodded.

Elia showed the way. They went behind the counter and entered the back room. There, Elia opened a door Harry hadn’t noticed before and he discovered a small cobbled courtyard decorated with flowers and a table surrounded by wooden garden chairs. At the end of the courtyard stood a small two story house.

Elia unlocked the door and they all entered the house. There was a wooden staircase against the wall on their right, a kitchen against the stairs with a long counter and high stools to eat, and a living-room against the left wall. At the end of the room, a closed door that probably led to a bedroom or a bathroom.

“It’s not huge, but its comfy. We spend most of our time in the inn, so it doesn’t matter much anyways,” Elia told Harry.

He wanted to answer that in comparison to the asepticized house he grew up in, this one looked perfect. There were just enough personal belongings for the place to seem lived in, but not messily so. Harry noticed the wallpaper and widened his eyes.

“Cool, right?”

She had seen his awestruck gaze. The walls were sky-coloured, even if it wasn’t doing it justice by calling it like this. They were probably enchanted like the ceiling in Hogwarts’ Great Hall. The sky on the house’s walls wasn’t moving but it faithfully showed a midday sky.

“It changes several times a day. Not all the time like it use to because it was making our head hurt.”

“That’s awesome,” Harry sighed, impressed.

Truly, this family never ceased to amaze him.

While they were chatting, Luna had sat on one of the couches and had gotten her suitcase out of her pocket. It was the size of a nut. Luna took her wand to give it its real size back.

“Go sit with Luna while I make something to drink.”

Harry listened to the advice and sat in front of Luna, who was whispering, her ear against the suitcase. The young man would have found this peculiar, but knowing his friend, it would have been weirder to not have something odd.

“Elie, is Louis down here?” she asked loudly.

“He must be upstairs, sleeping. Why?” Elia answered while holding a pack of ground coffee above a plunger coffee pot. Then she found the answer to her question herself. “Don’t tell me. You managed to convince Rolf’s father to lend you another creature?”

Luna’s face flushed as she smiled back sweetly.

“Oh, Mooncalf… Do you remember the last one? What is it this time?”

“It’s a Niffler.”

Harry couldn’t help but laugh.

“You’re not going to be bored.”

“You’ve seen one before?” Elia asked suspiciously.

“Yes. They’re not mean creatures.”

“That’s something, I guess…” Elia sighed, before turning back to the kitchen to make coffee.

“Who’s Louis?” Harry asked, eventually asked, his pride coming behind his curiosity.

“Louis is The black cat. He’s a bit old, he sleeps all the time.”

“He’s the original cat?”

Elia burst into laughter. “Cats don’t live that long, even magical ones, and the inn is far older than a cat. The first one belonged to my great-great-great-grandmother. Or maybe to her mother. Well, it was a cat from another century.”

Elia came to the living-room with a tray she placed on the coffee table. She filled the three cups with steaming coffee.

“You hungry, Mooncalf?”

Luna shook her hand and took her girlfriend’s hand into hers. Elia shot her a tender smile.

“And who’s Rolf?”

“Rolf is a strange boy,” Luna answered. “He could prove the Crumple-Horned Snorkack’s existence, but he refuses to believe in them.”

“Rolf is also her best friend. He's from England but they've met in France, years before Luna and I,” Elia added. “He wants to become a Magizoologist, like his father. He’s the one who keeps lending Luna his creatures, and Luna brings them here, where they traumatize my cat. Rolf’s mother is glad to see them away, and I can understand why!”

Luna made an innocent smile, as if her girlfriend wasn’t talking about her, and opened the suitcase she now had on her thighs.

Harry saw the Niffler’s tiny clawed paws before seeing its full body. It was a sort of platypus with alert small eyes and grey fur. Luna took it in her arms and pushed the suitcase away.

“See, Elie? He’s not going to bother Louis.”

“Except if Louis’ wearing something shiny.”

The two young women turned at the same time toward Harry.

“Why?” Elia asked, already worried.  
“Nifflers are worse than magpies. They steal every shiny thing they can put their little paws on.” Harry explained, digging into his Care for Magical Creatures’ classes knowledge. Hagrid would be proud.

Judging by Luna’s face, she had just understood something. Elia frowned.

“Galleons are shiny things. You mean he’ll try to rob us?”

“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Luna softly promised while stroking the peaceful Niffler.

Until Harry noticed that he was, in fact, trying to pick with his claws the fastener of the golden bracelet Luna was wearing at her wrist.

Luna’s stay promised to be anything but boring. The day had already been full of surprises and Harry just knew that some topics he would have avoided usually were going to be discussed. He was relieved to be with people whom he trusted enough to confess to.

“We’ll start at the beginning, okay?” Elia began after they had shared a few minutes of silence, drinking their coffee. “Could you tell me how you two met?”

Harry and Luna shared a glance.

“We’ve met almost three years ago,” Harry told her.

“Harry was scared by the Thestrals.”

“By what?” Elia asked, a quizzical expression marring her face.

“The Thestrals,” Harry clarified. “They’re winged horses with a skeletal body. They pull the carriages at Hogwarts. You can see them only if…” he stopped in spite of himself, unsure of the vulnerability he might show.

“If you’ve seen someone die.” Luna finished, kicking her legs up before meeting Elia’s eyes again.

Elia looked at them both, compassion clear in her dark eyes.

“Anyway, it was the first time I saw the Thestrals even though I’d been at Hogwarts for four years. Luna noticed me staring at them and came to explain.”

“Harry was always nice to me.”

They shared a brief silence before Elia met his eyes. “How did you come to save her life?”

Harry glanced at her, not knowing where to start nor what Elia already knew about the war.

“That’s a long story,” he began.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think about it? Don't hesitate to tell me!
> 
> Thanks for reading, as always.


	5. War memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys. Sorry it took me so long. I have a few chapters already written now so hopefully you won't have to wait too much. Enjoy !

“What do you know about the war?” Harry asked Elia.

She sipped her coffee before answering.

“ Luna hadn’t told me much. She didn’t want me to worry.” She explained, with a pointed look toward her girlfriend, who pretended not to be involved.

Harry hesitated. Should he tell her everything or the bare minimum?

“ You know that the war had started many years ago because of a conflict between a Dark Lord, Voldemort, with his followers, against the rest of the wizarding community, the Muggles and most of the magical creatures, right?”

“ Yeah, I know that part. We have newspaper and the Internet.”

“ The main leader on our side, against the Dark Lord, was the headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore. He died last year. And someone had to take his place.”

Harry kept for himself the particular and sordid circumstances of the former headmaster’s death. He didn’t want to talk either about Snape and his double agent’s role. Elia was listening carefully and keeping in mind every single detail.

“ One day, I’ll tell you why, but I had to be the one to take his place.”

The dark haired woman widened her eyes while Luna smiled sadly; a reaction Harry hadn’t ever received after his confession. People had a tendency to congratulate him for his courage and sacrifice or to think that it was an honour to be a leader for so many people at his age.

“ You? But you were like… Seventeen?”

“ More or less. Before Dumbledore’s death, I’d helped him during several missions. We needed to learn more about a way to destroy Voldemort, because he didn’t seem to want to die and he’d used dark magic to ensure he would stay alive no matter what.”

Harry wasn’t sure he had explained the Horcruxes to anyone else than Ron or Hermione, but Luna didn’t appear overly surprised; maybe she was daydreaming again.

“ No one else knew that and was willing to do something. We’ve fled during an ambush, with two of my friends, and we’ve stayed away from school for the remainder of the year. It was a harsh time, which put our friendship close to break, on top of everything.”

Harry looked at the Niffler who was pouting because Luna had stopped him from fleeing with her bracelet. He would have smiled if he hadn’t been telling such a story.

“ Voldemort’s minions were obviously trying to put their hands on us, they knew we weren’t in school. We’ve ended up being captured by bounty hunters and thrown in a cell. Because when we were running across the country and hiding into the woods, Voldemort had taken control of the wizarding society hand had made us undesirables. In the cell, we’ve found Luna and other people we knew.”

“ I’ve told you they wanted to use me to forbid my father to speak badly of us in his paper,” Luna reminded Luna. “Blackmail and censorship.”

“ And as we wouldn’t win the war by staying down there, we tried to escape and led Luna and the others with us.”

“ I guess it was far more dangerous than what you’re implying,” Elia sighed.

Harry smiled shamefully.

“ I wish to spare you the details, and spare myself the too vivid memories.”

Elia finally nodded.

“ I get it.”

She kissed Luna’s temple, who hid her face against Elia’s shoulder.

“ Thanks to the sabotage, Voldemort finally died, for good this time.” Harry finished.

It was nice for once to tell only what he wanted to tell and not to be seen as a hero when he wasn’t one. Elia believed him and wouldn’t ask him more questions for now, even though she guessed he was still keeping dirty secrets.

“ And the peace finally came back?”

Harry made a face.

“ Overall, yes, it did, even if there were still some of Voldemort’s followers on the run and a lot of them in prison waiting for their trials. Everything took a while to settle. There was a lot of rebuilding too, especially in Hogwarts, since the final battle had destroyed a good part of it.”

The young man started felt a lump in his throat and lowered his head. He shouldn't have thought about that, the broken walls and the lying corpses amongst the ruins.

To his surprise, a hand settled gracefully on the top of his spine and stayed there a welcome touch. He turned his head and saw long blond hair against his shoulder.

“ Luna and you have left the country after that. Is that common, or are you the only ones?”

“ Rolf didn’t want me to stay with my father, Elie,” Luna reminded her. “We’ve followed the trail of a wild Thestral herd in Northern Ireland, then we’ve joined his father in Romania.”

“ That’s true. What about you, Harry?”

He took comfort knowing Luna’s hand was there, providing him with warmth and courage.

“ I can’t seem to understand that the war is truly over.”

He had never managed to say that before, but he knew when the words were out that he meant them from all his heart.

“ Well, I guess I know in a way, because I’ve witnessed the trials, helped to the rebuilding and talked with grieving families, but deep down, I don’t get it. I wake up at night screaming, I jump when there’s a sharp noise around me, I look behind myself when I’m walking in the streets to make sure no one is trailing after me… I’ve sent a year on the run and I feel like it’s not over. Even though, to be honest, it’s easier here than it was in England,” he confessed, his words muddled because of his nervosity.

He nevertheless manages to smile lightly, in order to reassure Elia who was looking at him, worry clear in her eyes.

“ I’m able to enjoy my days here. I’ll just need a bit more time, I figure.”

He made a short pause.

“ Here’s your answer, Elia. I’ve drained my courage during the war and I’ve fled the United Kingdom to hide somewhere nobody would know me, somewhere I could rest for a while.”

He noticed afterwards that his voice was more bitter and resigned than indifferent and detached as he would have preferred.

“ You've found the right place, Harry. Your secrets are safe with us, and I’m talking in the name of all my family when I say that we enjoy very much your staying here at the inn.”

Harry accepted the compliment with a small nod and a mix of contentment and embarrassment. Luna removed her hand and moved to go sit in front of him, next to Elia who instantly pulled her into a hug, a move which could have to seem possessive if she hadn’t smiled gently at Harry in the meantime.

  
  


[…]

 

The three youngsters spent the afternoon comfortably sitting on the couches, chatting about various topics less heavy than the war, drinking coffee and keeping a close watch on the Niffler who had managed when they weren’t looking to unscrew a door handle and take back Luna’s bracelet. The young woman grudgingly put him back into the suitcase, which was according to her bigger on the inside.

In the evening, they ate together then Elia told them she had to take her shift. Luna wanted to stay in the house to rest after the long trip across Europe, and Harry excused himself, confessed he had an animal to look after in his own room. Elia widened her eyes and made him promise to introduce her tomorrow at the latest. Harry wished them both a good night after promising and went upstairs to check if Aderyn hadn’t destroyed the bedroom.

The small owl was perched on the top of the wardrobe and she scared him when he entered. He closed the door and put his bag next to the bed, feeling a yellow gaze following his every move. He sat on the bed and called her softly. She offered a light hoot he didn’t know how to interpret.

“ I wish I could let you out, but I’d like to read what Anthony has written me about you. Tomorrow, maybe.”

She didn’t react more to his confession, but he felt satisfied nonetheless. He knew magical birds were smart enough to sometimes understand humans’ language.

Aderyn descended from her spot and landed on the desk. She jumped into her water bowl and drank a little, then shook herself, splashing droplets of water around the cage.

Harry changed then went to wash his teeth in the bathroom. Aderyn followed him there. He crouched and handed his palm toward her, silently welcoming her to trust him. She came closer slowly and pecked weakly at his fingers to see what they were made of.

Most likely reassured, she climbed his palm. Her feathers were soft and her claws sharp, but she wasn’t hurting his skin for real. Harry stood up without letting her go and went back to sit on the bed. He leaned against the wall and caught his bag with his foot.

He was careful not to move his left hand while he pulled his spell book out of his bag. He rested it on his thigh and began to read, his palm containing the bird leaned against his hip. Aderyn had become familiar with the touch and was rolled up into a feathery ball. From time to time, she would move a little, as if to check her surroundings.

The young man’s heart was already full of love for his new owl. They spent the rest of the evening like this, only stopping when the events and the fatigue of the day caught him.

Aderyn opened her eyes and hesitated a while, before perching herself on the headboard, overlooking Harry as if she were keeping watch over him. Harry smiled, waved his wand to turn the light off and fell asleep minutes later.

 

[…]

 

The next day, Harry took up his old habits again. He spent his morning walking on the Alley and did some shopping. He didn’t see Elia, at such an hour she was likely still sleeping. He ate a sandwich in his bedroom and let Aderyn peck at the crumbs. In the afternoon, he visited an Asian art museum on the muggle side. He had heard Muggles talking about it one day he was having lunch outside. He discovered numerous civilisations which he knew nothing about, expect the Māori because their use of magic was far older than the United Kingdom’s wizards’ one.

He came back to the inn by taking the underground and sat in the common room, waiting for Elia to arrive.

“ Salut Harry. Bien dormi? Prêt pour un peu de pratique?” [ Hi, Harry! Slept well? Ready for a bit of practice? ]

She’s just talked in French.

“ Bien, et toi? Oui, je crois.” He answered after a while trying to remember his grammar. “Good, you? Yes, I think I am.”

Elia congratulated him with a bright smile and sat in front of him. They talked in French and English for almost two hours, Elia explaining bit by bit the new words and grammatical forms.

Luna joined them around six thirty. Elia remembered what Harry had promised them the day before.

“ What about your animal? Can we see it?”

Harry led them to his bedroom. Luna smiled when she heard him say his password. The little room was suddenly crowded with three youngsters and a currently hiding owl.

“ Aderyn?” Harry called her.

The owl hooted from her hiding spot. Harry crouched on the floor and looked behind the bed. Aderyn was there, her yellow eyes glowing in the darkness.

“ You can get out, it’s safe,” he promised while holding his hand out to her.

Like the previous day, she confirmed the sturdiness of the material before taking a place in his palm. Harry then presented her to his friends.

“ Oh, she’s adorable,” Elia shouted.

Luna settled for smiling and handing her finger to the small owl who peck lightly at it. Luna then petted her soft head with her fingertips.

“ Aderyn? A beautiful name for a beautiful animal,” she whispered to herself.

“ I didn’t choose the name,” Harry added.

“ It’s an ancient one. I think it means “bird” in Welsh.”

“ Where did you find her?” Elia wanted to know. She didn’t dare to pet Aderyn but she was watching her intently.

“ To Berger et fille,” he awkwardly pronunciated.

“ That’s a great pet shop! That’s where we’ve got Louis,” Elia approved. “I’ve trained with Diane a few times, she’s younger than me but she’s great at spells.”

“ Speaking about, that’s nice for children to work with their parents here.”

When the words had left his mouth, Harry realised that he was both sad because it would never be an eventuality for him, and glad because families hadn’t be so wrecked it.”

“ That’s not the case for you because wizards kids go to Hogwarts, right?”

“ Yes, there are not many kids working in the shops during the school year.”

Luna took advantage of the discussion to pick Aderyn up from Harry’s hand and petted her feathers softly. The small owl seemed to enjoy the attention.

“By the way,” Harry said, remembering Anthony’s note. “Can you translate it for me, please?” he asked Elia after collecting the parchment on his desk.

“ What is it?” she wanted to know while opening the folded note.

“ A few pieces of advice to take care of Aderyn,” he told her.

She read the instructions and took a minute to think about the appropriate translation.

“ So, it says that Aderyn is two years old, that’s she’s a Little Owl and won’t grow up much more, and also that she’s more diurnal than nocturnal, unlike most of the owls.”

“ I’ve noticed that.”

“ She likes insects, lizards, small mammals like voles and sometimes she also catches bats. She can stay awake during the day, but she prefers to hunt at night.”

“ I wonder if she’ll manage to feed in this area…”

“ It’ll take her some time to fly over the Parisian region, but she’ll find eventually fields and forests,” Elia reassured him. “She’s perfectly capable of carrying the mail, even though she may be a little slower than others birds, due to her smaller wingspan.” She added. “Here, that’s all you have to know about her.”

“ Thanks, Elia. Anthony and Diane really do their best to ensure that the animals are treated well.”

Elia nodded and turned toward Luna.

“ See, Mooncalf. This owl is adorable and she doesn’t steal things. Don’t you want one?” Elia encouraged her.

Luna only tilted her head, as if she didn’t want to stop looking at Aderyn.

“ I like the Niffler,” she said in the end.

Harry noticed how Elia struggled to smile at her girlfriend instead of sighing of frustration.

“ I tried,” she whispered to her friend. “Mooncalf, can you give her back to Harry? It’s almost dinner time, we have to go. Harry, do you wanna join us? Marthe has cooked tonight.”

Luna handed Aderyn back to Harry, who let her on the desk.

“ I’ll go with you, then,” he answered to Elia. “I’ll let you go outside later,” he said to the owl before following his friends downstairs. Céleste told her daughter about the last customers and entrusted the management of the place to her while she went to rest at home. Elia cast her usual spell, the one which warned her when someone was waiting upstairs.

Downstairs, a couple was dining quietly in the room and a customer was already waiting at the bar.

“ Go and sit together, I’ll take care of the customer and join you after.”

Harry and Luna followed her advice and took place to a round table with four chairs. Elia had her professional smile on her face, even though she was rarely in a bad mood, and quickly mixed a drink for her customer. Harry observed her until Marthe came to their table, a heavy tray levitating before her as usual.

“ Bonsoir Marthe,” Harry said to her when she had put the tray securely on the table.  [Good evening Marthe]

“ Bonsoir les jeunes.” [Good evening kids]

Without saying anymore more, she turned back and went to her kitchen. Harry and Luna divided the dishes between the three of them. There was a fragrant ratatouille and white steamed rice. Elia joined them moment later and they ate quietly the delicious meals made by her grandmother.

Later that same night, when Marthe had gotten to bed after doing the dishes, and the three of them were alone in the large room, Elia taught to Harry how to make a proper wizarding cocktail. The goal, she said to him while Luna was daydreaming perched on a high stool, was to mix the ingredients as for a simple drink, that is to say to put every liquid into a shaker or a glass, and then to cast the associated spell.

Elia poured in a fancy stemmed glass three different liquids that refused to mix, appearing as three layers in various shades of red. She waved her wand and cast the spell. The drink started to bubble. Harry widened his eyes and watched the tiny volcano.

Since he was leaving in the wizarding world, he shouldn’t be surprised anymore about magical phenomenons, but he still couldn’t help, probably because of his upbringing and the magical repression at home. And by the way, he had never seen anyone making wizarding drinks!

“Your turn,” Elia said suddenly.

Harry mumbled for form and picked a recipe randomly in Elia’s old book, while Luna tasted the red cocktail smiling at her girlfriend.

He poured two different alcohols in the shaker, then added kiwi juice and crushed ice, shook the mix and poured it into a simpler glass. Elia showed him the wand move for the spell written under the recipe and Harry cast it. The drink started to glow as if it contained golden flakes. Elia applauded her friend and told him to go sit with Luna.

“With this knowledge, you could impress anyone,” she stated, voice full of innuendo.

Harry feigned to miss the wink she sent his way and tried his drink. He wouldn’t impress anyone if it was looking good but tasting bad.

But in fact, it wasn’t so bad. Sugary, fresh with a hint of strong alcohol. But why would he want to impress anyone, anyway? He liked Elia and she liked him back, with Luna it was different but amounted to the same thing. He finally understood what she really meant and frowned.

“I don’t remember saying I wanted to find someone at all cost.”

He managed not to look angry when he answered. He didn’t need to offend her.

“But that doesn’t mean you can’t have a bit of fun! You’re not forced to think about marriage when you meet someone for the first time, you can just enjoy yourself for a while and move on!”

Harry wondered if she had understood when he had said a while ago that he didn’t want to burden himself with somebody at the moment.

“I couldn’t date someone I don’t truly like,” he retorted.

“Ah, Harry… You’re far too responsible.”

Luna looked at her disapprovingly.

“Harry doesn’t need to date someone, he’s got Aderyn.”

The young man sent the blond woman sitting next to him a thankful look.

“Does that mean you don’t need me because you have your Niffler?” with a hint of resentment.

“Elie, honey, it’s not _my_ Niffler.”

Elia rolled her eyes. Maybe she hoped for more reassurance but she calmed down quickly when she saw Luna wasn’t going to say anything more. Harry hadn’t deserved to be spoken to as she did. She hadn’t forgotten what he had been through; she just wanted to do everything she could so that he would forget and let go of his dark thoughts.

Obviously, she hadn’t managed to do that smoothly, but in her defence, she was very determined to do it well.

“I’m sorry, Harry. I just want you to enjoy your stay. And not feel trapped with a couple.”

“Don’t worry about me, Elia. I’ve told you, I’m feeling better already. And I don’t mind hanging out with you two.”

He was sincere and she felt it. She smiled gently, softer than usual. It was almost one of those smile that belonged to Luna only.

Harry couldn’t have imagined it if he hadn’t seen it but he was so glad Luna had met Elia. They seemed so at ease together, as a couple, and he almost envied them their easy friendship, their tenders gestures and complicity. Almost, he hadn’t rebuffed Elia for anything.

That night, he went to bed after two in the morning, his mind floating away thanks to the alcohol and his friends’ presence.

[…]

Harry woke up the next morning without Aderyn but with a slight headache. He had opened the window before falling asleep and she hadn’t needed to be asked twice before flying away into the night. He’d felt a pang at seeing her leave, even though he knew she would come back later.

After showering and eating breakfast, Harry sat at his desk. He had left Hogwarts a bit more than two weeks before and his friends hadn’t received any news from him since. It was about time he kept his promise to Minerva McGonagall.

He fished for a pen bought in Muggle London and a stack of crumpled parchments given by Céleste.

“ _Dear Headmistress McGonagall,_

_I hope you’re doing well. I wouldn’t want you to worry about me so I’m taking the liberty to send you a letter. I’m living in a lovely inn in France and I’ve even made a friend. People here have been spared by the war, it’s as if nothing happened at all. I can’t forget, but it helps to move on slowly. I hope the start of the school year will go smoothly._

_Will all my respect,_

_Harry Potter”_

He folded the message after reading it and put it aside.

“ _Dear Ron and Hermione,_

_I hope you’re both doing well and that you’re not too mad at me for not sending any news sooner (you’ve received the letters through Kreacher two weeks ago, right? If not, I’m not the one responsible for it!). I’m fine and that’s honest. I’m in France at the moment, I’m staying at a wizarding inn but I mostly hand out on the Muggle side. You’ll never know how the French wizards are much more advanced than us in technology. (They use electricity, Mione! They even have mobile phones). Your father would live a dream here, Ron. I’ve made a friend, she’s working at the inn. She’s been teaching me French and showing me around. And you’ll never guess who she’d “introduced” me to. A blond-haired girl we know…. I could let you try to guess until my next letter, but honestly, I’m not that patient so I’m telling you right now: Luna, our Luna Lovegood._

_Surprised? Me too. This trip isn’t like everything I’ve imagined and that’s for the best. Good luck with your respective schools. You can answer me by giving a letter back to this owl. By the way, her name’s Aderyn and it’s her first big trip. I only adopted her yesterday. I’m starting to move on…_

_See you guys later, take care of each other._

_Your friend,_

_Harry.”_

He stretched and folded the second letter. He didn’t want to send Aderyn for a one-week trip so he only gave her the letter for the Burrow. He then proceeded to carry the other one to the post office.

When he came back, it was almost eleven and he saw Luna descending carefully the stairs with her Niffler under her arm. He was fighting her embrace and holding something in his clawed paws. Luna noticed Harry and smiled innocently at him.

“Hello, Harry.”

“Hi, Luna. What are you doing here? Elia’s awake yet?”

“Don’t tell her you saw me, alright?”

Harry frowned. Luna seemed serious and even though lying to his friend for her didn’t please him much, he couldn’t help but think that there was a problem.

“If you explain to me why.”

“Later, I have to put him back in the house,” she said while pointing at the Niffler.

“Fine, later.”

“Thank you, Harry.”

She smiled again and rushed into the staff room. Harry then realized that Céleste was nowhere to be seen. She had probably left to do some shopping or to have a chat with Marthe downstairs.

He stayed into the common room until the tenant came back, just to make sure everything was fine. The meeting with Luna had intrigued more than worried him and maybe after all the Niffler had done something stupid and Luna had fixed it before Elia would notice, in which case he would keep the secret when he would have the final explanation from Luna.

[...]

He actually waited five days for an answer. In fact, he had almost forgotten that Luna was still supposed to explain until he surprised her again in the common room around lunchtime. She was holding the Niffler against her stomach and this time Elia was here too, looking angry. Harry hesitated to move forward but Elia made a sign for him to join the conversation.

Luna smiled faintly at him and Harry answered her with one of his own, though a bit embarrassed.

“You were right, Harry. This creature steals everything and especially the things that don’t belong to him.”

He pretended to be surprised because he wasn’t supposed to have seen Luna coming from upstairs with the Niffler one week ago.

“What did he steal?” he only asked Elia.

“A customer’s golden watch, galleons and cufflinks.”

Luna hid her face in the Niffler’s fur without doubt more out of fun than shame, as far as Harry could tell.

“I would like him to have them back before he starts to accuse us of stealing them. I know the Niffler did it.”

“He had no proof.” Luna retorted back.

Elia rolled her eyes.

“Luna, let’s get this over with. Please ask this creature to give back what he stole. I don’t even see why you’re covering for him.”

The blond-haired young woman suddenly stopped hiding and faced her girlfriend.

“He hasn’t stolen anything!” she stated as fiercely as she could.

For one fleeting second doubt was clear on Elia’s face but then weariness replaced it.

“I don’t see whom could have done it.”

“Me,” Luna said.

“You?” Elia exclaimed sceptically. “You, you have stolen a customer’s personal belongings?”

Harry must admit that at this point he wasn’t understanding much.

“He spoke badly to you last night, and the night before, and the night before that. So I took a tip before his departure.” Luna explained, without looking sorry in the least.

Elia was flabbergasted.

“Mooncalf, you sent your Niffler to steal things from a customer because you were mad at him for being rude to me?” she repeated just to be sure.

“Yes, I did,” Luna confirmed.

Elia sighed and her face softened. She even smiled a little.

“I’m not going to lie: this is adorable.”

Luna smiled proudly.

“But what are you going to tell him about his stuff?”

“That he should quit drinking and maybe that way he could remember where he put them.”

Against all attempt, Elia let herself laugh at the proposition.

“We wouldn’t have many customers if we used to speak to them like that, you know that right?” she said, way calmer than only minutes before.

Nobody talked again about the incident after that. Elia gave up on stooping Luna from avenging her when she deemed it necessary. Harry would never have thought this possible from his friend but he had to admit that there was an entire part of her personality that he didn’t know. He was glad to be able to get to know her more.   
One week later, Elia invited Harry to the restaurant, a Mexican one this time. Luna obviously came along since they were celebrating Harry's first month in France and his friendship with the two of them.

They ate grilled meat served with corn tortillas, tomatoes and avocado seasoned with cilantro and lime juice. They emptied their plates to the last crumb.

They made small talk while they were eating and talked more seriously afterwards. Beginning with light topics, they began talking about their family. Luna told them quickly how she had lost her mother at a young age and then had lived with her father. Rolf and his family had taken her in after the end of the war. She even shared with Harry how welcoming Celeste had been since her first day at the Black Cat Inn. She had been also very supportive when Elia had confessed that Luna was more than her friend.

Harry, tight-lipped, spoke about the family who had taken him in reluctantly after his parents' death and who had made him feel undesirable every single day for more than a decade. Since he could do magic he would always be a freak in their eyes. He also mentioned his chosen family he finally lost too: his godfather. Luna then intervened into the conversation to explain how Harry had been distressed when he had thought Sirius could be in danger and how he was ready to sacrifice himself to save him.

Harry smiled sadly and answered that without Luna and their friends he wouldn’t have made it and wouldn’t be here to tell the story.  
Elia then added that their country seemed to be particularly dangerous.

Harry spoke about the Weasley family who’d taken him in with open arms, but with whom he didn’t feel completely at ease.

Elia told them she had few memories of her father but unlike what people thought 1) he was still alive 2) he was still dating Céleste (kind of).

Seeing Harry’s incredulous look, she told the story from the beginning. She wasn’t annoyed, she liked to talk, especially with him.

Her parents met when they were in their twenties. Céleste was already ruling the inn by herself, under Marthe’s careful watch. A traveller among so many others had come in one day and asked for a room. Except unlike his fellow travellers, he did fall in love with Céleste and didn’t rest until he seduced her.

Daniel, the traveller who had stopped travelling, proposed to Céleste a year after their first encounter but Céleste turned him down. She wanted to keep her name since it was her mother’s, and her grandmother before her. Charles has been the tenants’ name for decades. In addition, she knew Daniel was restless and that he wouldn’t be truly happy if he had to chain himself to a woman and a place for the rest of his days. Despite his initial disillusion, Daniel faced reality soon enough; Céleste wasn’t wrong.

Six months later, Céleste discovered she was pregnant and they both welcomed the news with glee. Daniel was pleased to finally have a link between Céleste and him, and Céleste was happy to carry on the family name. She loved Daniel, however, she was also more rational about love than him. Elia confessed she didn’t always understand the bond between her parents.

Finally, Elia was born and her parents and grandmother were delighted. Daniel stayed for five more years, only travelling for short periods, then he had left with his backpack and the memories of the inn where the two women of his life would stay.

Elia hadn’t kept any memory of her father’s departure, apart from the feeling of lacking something that had followed her for years, until she understood that it was a possibility Céleste had considered ever since she had met Daniel.

He came back at least once a year, sometimes for a few sometimes, sometimes for much longer. The year Elia turned fourteen, the year she started to work for real, he had stayed for four months. It had been very strange to get to know her own father, she confessed to Harry.

She missed him sometimes, but she comforted herself by thinking that he would eventually come back and then she could spend her nights telling him what her months were made of.

Harry felt the tenderness in her voice and was sincerely glad that his friend knew such feelings.

They went home arm in arm the three of them, carefree young spirits in the Parisian night.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did you find it? Thank you so much for your support, it means a lot.  
> Love, Yoi.


	6. Magical ice-cream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to better remove mistakes from this chapter than the last. Sorry for the remaining ones! Enjoy !

Aderyn was gone for two days to deliver the letter at the Burrow, and she came back empty-pawed. The answer came only one week later with an owl he didn't know and who didn't stay, probably disappointed by how coldly Aderyn welcomed him.   
Harry was about to read it when someone knocked on the door. It was the beginning of the afternoon; he had overslept for once and missed breakfast. He was starting to feel hungry but didn't have the energy to leave for now.  
"Yes?" He called through the door, before remembering he had to open it himself. Luna was behind it, her hair tied in a messy bun and wearing a light green floral dress.  
"Hello, Harry."  
"Good morning, Luna. Do you need anything?"  
"Céleste sent Elie to do errands for her, do you want to have lunch with me?"  
Harry was surprised by the offer. Ever since Luna came here, he hadn't had the chance to spend time with her alone.  
"Why not."  
Going out with her would be sweeter than on his own. He put the unopened letter in his jeans' pocket, took his bag, stroke Adery n's feathers and followed Luna out of the room.  
"I think the Niffler doesn't like Aderyn much," she said while they arrived in the common room.   
Harry didn't know what to answer.  
"Maybe he tried to steal something from her?"  
Luna hadn't thought about that possibility. She pondered it a few seconds and nodded.  
"There's an altar for stolen things behind my bed," she told him shamelessly.  
He barely managed not to smile.  
"I guess Elia doesn't like that."  
They exited the inn and moved toward the more lively area of the Alley.  
"When she threatens me, I remind her that what she doesn't know can't harm her," Luna answered innocently.  
Harry threw a side glance one more time surprised by her way of thinking.  
"You want to go on the muggle side or stay here?" he asked her, both because he needed to know and because he didn't know what else to say.   
"We could buy ice-creams," she stated as an answer.  
He didn't try to contest.  
"Ice cream it is then."  
He still didn't know if they would stay on this side of the Alley, but obviously, Luna didn't care about that. She stared at the various shops when they passed by and spent more than five minutes admiring the pet shop front display. Harry was tempted to go in to say hi to Diane and Anthony, but when he was about to say so to Luna, she decided to keep going. He shrugged and followed her nonetheless. They went through a small lane Harry hadn't taken yet and which left the main road, the one which went to Gringotts, the inn and the post office.   
Harry saw a bar, a quill and parchment shop and finally an ice cream shop. Luna pushed the glass door open. The shop was narrow with pink candy walls and white and light blue tiled floor.  
"Welcome to the Ice Cream Palace," said a singing voice from behind the counter.  
For once, Harry wasn't able to compare this place with a muggle one: even since he lived here, he had never gone to buy one. His only reference was Florean Fortescue's ice-cream parlour on Diagon Alley.   
There was a refrigerated display case and several menus set on a display stand. In the corner near the display case, there was a table and three chairs.  
"Is it to eat on the spot or is it to go?" Asked the person who had welcomed them.  
Harry turned toward her to answer, but his friend did it before him.  
"On the spot, please."  
"All right!"  
The woman seemed a bit older than Céleste. She wore an apron the same colour as the walls on a white summer dress. She had short brown hair slightly greying on the temples.  
"What can I get you?"  
Luna came closer to the counter and watched the perfumes available then grabbed the menu to read it. Harry did the same for the possibilities seemed endless. There were some classics he had seen in Diagon Alley, like Pumpkin Pasties or Every Flavour Beans which he had never dared to taste.  
"We're figuring out," he said.  
"Don't hesitate if you have any question. The customer is the king here!"  
Harry smiled politely at her. When reading the menu, one choice, in particular, managed to get his attention. He looked at the rest but stayed on his first choice.  
"I'll have the Golden Snitch, please."  
"Excellent choice! And for the lady?"  
Luna didn't appear to hear her question, so the waitress was about to ask again, but Luna put the menu down and turned toward the two other people.  
"Mont-Blanc, please."  
"That's our speciality! I hope you'll like it." She announced with a big smile. "Go and have a seat. I'll bring it to you in a few minutes."  
Harry and Luna followed her advice and took place in front of each other at the little round table in the corner. The shop was colourful and curiously homey, its atmosphere a mix of quietness and positiveness, without doubt, linked to the waitress' good mood and particular decoration.  
"Here's the Mont-Blanc," she said about five minutes later.  
She handed Luna a cone that didn't look magic at all until one looked at the ice-cream: white and shimmering, it looked like untouched and fresh snow. On top of it, a small white cloud was raining.  
"It's lime and lemon flavoured ice-cream with a lemon candy floss cloud enchanted to drop sugar flakes off on the ice-cream." The waitress explained, amused by their curious looks. "And here's the Golden Snitch." She stated as she put in front of Harry a bowl with nothing in it. The ice-cream was levitating a few centimetres nicely above the container. There were six or seven golden scoops the size of a nut and provided with tiny translucent wings that fluttered without noise.  
"Each scoop is a different flavour, but they're made with chocolate and toffee. The wings are made of fizzing sugar."  
"That's incredible," Harry couldn't help but say.  
The waitress burst into laughter.  
"That's good to hear! I'm glad I have some nice people like you to enjoy my crazy recipes."  
It was great to hear such a genuine pleasure instead of a question about his blood statute or whether or not he was Muggle since his reaction to magic hadn't been pureblood-like.  
"Enjoy! Call me if you need anything. I'm not far away."  
"Thank you."  
Harry attacked with his spoon a snitch's wings, more accessible to catch than the one he usually encountered on the Quidditch pitch. Luna, on the contrary, kept looking at the candy floss cloud with a dreamy smile as if it were telling her a good story. Harry deemed fine to let her do her way and concentrated on his dessert instead of her manners.  
He was in any case not disappointed by choice of the shop. His ice-cream was delicious as well as original and fun. Luna managed to eat hers and seemed satisfied as well if her smile was anything to go by.  
They paid and thanked the waitress who invited them to come back anytime. Then they left the shop.  
When they entered the common room, Elia jumped out of the office.  
"You're here!" she announced. "I've been looking for you everywhere."  
"Luna wanted to eat an ice-cream," Harry explained while making a sorry smile.  
"Leave a note next time, alright?" she asked, not looking so good. "How was it? You went to Madeleine's?" she added without transition with a playful look.  
"Harry's eaten a golden snitch," Luna deemed reasonable to answer.  
He couldn't help but laugh in front of Elia curious as to his sudden laughter.  
"Well, back then it was an ice-cream. But I almost choked one day because of a real golden snitch while playing Quidditch."  
She rolled her eyes, but Harry saw she was only mocking him a bit.  
"I'd like to know what you haven't done, Harry."  
"I've never died," he announced as seriously as he could while fighting the need to laugh again even though the topic of his death had nothing fun in itself.  
Elia gazed at him severely and sighed.  
"What else?"  
"He's never kissed a boy," Luna answered generously, suddenly far less dreamy than the previous minute.  
Harry and Elia both widened their eyes for different reasons.  
"How do you know about that?" he asked flabbergasted.  
"Here, that's what I call interesting. Thanks, Mooncalf."  
He looked at the two women in turn.  
"Remind me why exactly am I hanging with you guys?" he managed to say while voluntarily talking with an overly tired tone.  
"Because you'd bored without us," Elia stated with a broad smile, probably already plotting mischief with the new information in her possession.  
"But seriously, how do you know, Luna?"  
She raised her eyebrows as if to say that is should have been evident for everyone.  
"You just betrayed yourself, Harry."  
He wanted to bang his head against something all of a sudden. How was he supposed to win the war if he fell into such silly traps?  
"You said that to make sure it was true? Or because you thought it was?"  
She didn't answer that time. Harry doubted she had followed him during their years at Hogwarts, but it was weird she knew about that.  
"Don't worry, Harry. We'll take care of this," Elia whispered in his ear before displaying a teasing smile.  
He raised his eyes.  
"I've never kissed a boy, and I'm not missing it," he said while knowing she probably wasn't going to let it go now that she knew.  
"You say that before you've never tried."  
"Oh, because you liked it?" he began. She threw him a lost look, and he kept going. "To kiss a boy."  
"Ha, ha, very funny," she said. "Luna is a better kisser than any boyfriend I've had the misfortune to encounter in the past."  
He made a face.  
"Too much information."  
"But you said your relationships with girls had not particularly gone well. Maybe that's because they weren't for you."  
He wished he'd had something smart or funny to retort, sadly for him his brain seemed to think that what Elia had said was already sharp enough. She noticed but in her magnanimousness; she changed the topic.  
"What about you, Mooncalf? What did you order?" she asked her girlfriend.  
"Snow and Barbe à papa."  
"I like this one too.  My favourite one colours your hair rainbow when you eat it."  
Harry saw in Luna's eyes that she wished she had seen that one in the menu too.  
"Well, I could talk with you for a while longer, but unfortunately I have work to do, a group is checking in tomorrow, and Céleste is not feeling well, so I'm taking her shift. Sorry, we'll speak French later, Harry!  
"Don't worry. I won't forbid you to do your job. I'll go to my room. You call me if you need anything?"  
"Of course ! Go and rest while others are working!"  
He shook his head while smiling lightly.  
"Later!"  
He waved at his two friends and went upstairs. With everything that had happened that day, he had forgotten to read his letter. When he entered, Aderyn hooted joyfully and began to peck at the box of snacks, so he gave one to her and went to sit on the bed. He put the letter out of his jeans' pocket and unfolded it.  
"Harry,  
You're lucky Hermione's not one to pout for years because she would have sent you a Howler if you'd given us your address. I think she's calmer now. Who had to suffer through her crisis? Me! Thank you for that. Well, I'm a bit mad at you for leaving without saying anything, but I guess I understand. Mom would never have let you go.  
Auror's training begins in a week and Hermione and Ginny leave for Hogwarts at the same time. Hermione wants to pass her OWLs "in the best conditions", well you know how she can be. As for me (and most of our former classmates according to the Ministry), I'm allowed to enter the training, and I'm supposed to pass some exams later in the year. It's going to be hell to study, especially alone, but at least there won't be any classes!  
I thought you'd come back for the beginning of the school year but obviously, you're not going home now, aren't you? Well, enjoy whatever you're doing, alright? I loved Egypt when we visited Bill. Don't forget to send some news from time to time, okay?  
Ron"  
Harry couldn't help but smile. He felt in the letter's tone that his friend wasn't furious and for that he was relieved. Ron had shown some real maturity for a few months after the unfortunate events that almost managed to put an end to their friendship in Dean's forest. Hopefully, the young Weasley had finally understood that Harry only saw Hermione as a friend and vice versa and so he had his chance to her heart.  
Harry was ready to bet that despite everything Ron hadn't told Hermione he was in love with her even though all the family already knew, given how Ron was incapable of hiding his feelings, may it be love or resentment.  
Harry noticed the letter didn't stop there.  
"Harry Potter !!!!!  
Do you have any idea of how worried I was? And don't listen to Ron, I've absolutely not been in crisis. He's the one who's far too much relaxed. He's only angry that you've left him to go travel on your own.  
I understand quite well your departure, but I'm not okay with the lack of news. It could have happened anything (even to the Saviour of the Wizarding World).  
Finally, I'm relieved to know you're doing great and that you've also made friends. It's not so surprising that you've met Luna, she rarely spent her holidays in England when we were at school.  
Speaking of which, I'm going back there soon for good (not only to read every possible book in the library). The headmistress had opened a reduced particular year with "eighth years" for students our age who want to come back and study to pass their OWLs.  
The teaching during our year off had been terrible according to her. Snape was headmaster, and there were the Carrow, in the end, only the students belonging to the AD managed to learn something useful. Anyway, we're only a handful in this new year that we will have classes together, but we could still use our former dormitories. I don't know who's coming back; I didn't get that intel just yet. The headmistress probably hired new teachers, at least for Muggle studies, Potions and Defense. And even if the Defence teacher is as useless as Lockhart or Umbridge, I've known some helpful spells. I could also teach you a few.  
I tried to convince Ron to come back with me one last time, but he's firmly decided on beginning the training before learning about all the theory. I hope he's still going to study for is own exams.  
What about you, Harry? Have you any idea about what you'll do when you come back? Are you passing your OWLs?  I already know you'd have an O in Defense, but what about the other subjects?  
Otherwise, Aderyn has quite a temper! She refused to leave as long as we didn't give her food and she also bite my cat when he tried to approach her to play.  
To conclude, my parents are also doing better! They're still don't remembering some events, mostly about me, but they know enough to recognize me as their daughter. I had to take them to Diagon Alley and showed them the Wizarding world again, but they reacted as if it was the first time. I'm going to spend a few days with them before taking the Hogwarts Express, for now, I'm leaving them be to process everything they endured because of me. The most ironic being that they're kind of thankful because they discovered Australia. I think they go back there on their own at some point.  
I think that's all for the news. Tell us about your next adventures, alright? I worry about you.  
See you later,  
Hermione"  
The first thing that came to his mind after reading the letter was its length. Seriously it was as long as when she wrote an essay for school.  
Harry could understand her frustration of not being able to answer immediately, and he had in fact, one month of news to catch up.  
He was sincerely relieved for her parents. Besides, that meant he hadn't seen Snape for anything, that was even better.  
He decided to ignore the part about the OWLs since Hermione wouldn't like his answer. He still wasn't clear about his intentions for the future.  
He could picture Hermione raise her hand in Defense's class, look wearily at the teacher and say whatever she had to say about the ongoing topic. If he had found her annoying during their first year, he had come to respect her skills and hard work - even though that scared him too, paradoxically.  
"Well, Aderyn? It appears you're not letting big cats telling you what to do?" He said to his owl who had finished eating her snack and came to perch on the headboard.  
She smoothed her feathers with a satisfying gesture. Harry folded the letter and slipped it into his bag. Then he lied on the mattress while crossing his hands behind his neck. He thought back of the part he wanted to let go. He had come here to be alone and not ask himself questions about his future, and now he was feeling trapped by everything he wanted to avoid.  
What was he going to do, after his stay in Paris? He couldn't stay here forever, could he? He was lost, now that he had the choice. He sighed. Many things had changed since he had come here in Canopy Alley. He had met wonderful people, visited amazing places and had slowly begun to make peace with himself. The path would be longer still before the nightmares ended, and the dark thoughts disappeared, but he was definitely on the right track.   
He just needed to find what to do to keep going like that.  
[...]  
As luck would have it, the solution came to him the next evening. He had barely slept and spent the morning at the check-in desk with Luna while Elia was sleeping. Céleste was not feeling any better, and someone had to take care of the business. Elia didn't want to impose her work on her girlfriend and friend, but she had no choice, she was barely standing after her night tending after the customers in the common room and the bar. Luna had sent her to bed and had come to fend Harry to keep her company.  
Elia had woken up around one o'clock and had taken back her place. Luna had gone to nap, and Harry had sat in the common room with a tourist guide to check if he wanted to visit some places. Then he had learnt a few new words in French and tried to understand the conversations between Elia and the customers. He was getting better, at least in understanding. He still had trouble to speak.  
Around seven in the evening, he ventured to the muggle side and bought Chinese dishes for dinner. When he brought back the treasure, he saw Elia's eyes brighten even though she teased him about the choice. They ate together under Marthe's angry gaze, not understanding how they would eat in front of her something that came from outside. Elia tried to reassure her grandmother and was relieved when a five-member family came downstairs and ordered, so Marthe went to the kitchen and forgot for a while about her broken pride.  
Instead of taking care of the bar since it was empty, the three youngsters came upstairs and sat on the sofas in front of the hearth. Luna folded her legs behind herself and leaned her head against her palm, with Elia's head on her thighs. Harry sat leg crossed in front of them. They talked for a few hours, leaving comfortable silences to fill the blanks when the topics stopped. That was quite rare usually with Elia, but Harry guessed she was lost in her mind, probably worried since it was unusual from her mother to be sick.   
Around midnight, Elia went to check her grandmother was closing for the night and followed her to the house to also check on her mother. She came back twenty minutes later and lied again against Luna.  
"Céleste is less feverish tonight. She should be a bit better tomorrow  
morning."  
"If that's not the case, we can still help you," Harry said.  
The family had been so lovely to him; that was the least he could do for them.  
"Luna will get you if that's necessary."  
They remained silent for a while until Luna spoke.  
"I received a letter from Rolf today." She announced as if it possessed a link with what they had said earlier.  
"What does it say?" Elia prompted.  
"A baby dragon is born."  
Suddenly, Harry was reminded of Norbert, the first and last baby dragon he had seen in his life. It was a memory both intense and terrifying since that same dragon was now without a doubt capable of destroying him.  
"And?" Elia said, wishing for Luna to say more than what strictly interested her.  
"He wants to know if I want to visit him or if I join him directly in London because his mother wants them to come home soon," she explained as if she were reading it from the letter.  
"You want to see that baby dragon, right?"  
"I've never seen one before," she whispered without looking at her girlfriend in the eyes.  
"Well, you should accept his invitation."  
Harry thought Elia hid well her disappointment in her voice but not on her face. She wasn't smiling anymore, and it was weird to see her with that expression. If Luna accepted, she would leave, and Elia would stay here. Harry felt sorry for her. Even for him, it would be strange to remain without Luna.  
Luna bit her thumbnail while thinking about it.  
"But I don't want to go back to London right now."  
"Then ask Rolf to leave you in Romania?"  
Elia didn't even look convinced by her solution.  
"Come on, Elie. Rolf would never leave me alone with dragons," Luna retorted directly.  
Elia shrugged as if to say "I've tried".  
Suddenly, Luna's face brightened.  
"Rolf won't say anything if you come with me," she said to Elia.  
Her girlfriend looked happy, full of hope and then disappointed in the span of a few seconds.  
"And Harry could come with us," she added without taking into account Elia's expression.  
"Mooncalf honey. I can't leave the inn, especially with my mother ill at the moment." She said, sorry clear on her face.  
"We can wait a few days," Luna assured keeping smiling.  
"I'd like it to be that easy. But I don't see how we can manage."  
"There's a lot of people working here on the Alley. I'm sure you'll find someone willing to help for a week or two." Harry said. "You deserve a few days of rest, Elia. Take profit of the occasion."  
Luna smiled at Harry, and he gave it back while watching Elia who seemed lost between the hope he was giving her and her own belief of the impossibility of the project.  
"I can't promise you anything, okay?" She said at last. "I'll talk about it with my mother tomorrow, and we'll see what we can do."  
Luna nodded.  
"What about you, Harry? You didn't answer."  
Under their gazes, he rubbed his neck.  
"I don't know. I've seen dragons before, and I don't have a precious memory of them."  
Luna looked sad.  
"And I don't want to step between you once more."  
This time Elia rolled her eyes.  
"How many times do I have to tell you? You're not stepping in." Elia tried to resist the urge to tease him but failed. "By the way, you don't have to be afraid of tearing us apart, as soon as we find you, someone, you won't be alone anymore."  
"But that's not the question…" he began, frowning.  
"If my mother let me go, you come with us. That's non-negotiable. We won't let you here."  
He sighed for the sake of it and kept his thoughts for himself. He would wait to see how Céleste reacted. If he had to be honest, he was tempted to give in. He could travel a while longer without asking himself questions, and the Romanian dragon area had to be an unusual place. He wondered what Ron would have done in his place.   
His brain chose that exact moment to remember his best friend's older brother, Charlie Weasley, lived in the park. Harry had only met him twice, during the Triwizard Tournament and at Bill and Fleur's wedding and he couldn't say they each other well.  
He had left the United Kingdom to avoid meeting people who knew about his life and story, people who often saw his popularity before his personality. He hadn't expected to meet Luna in Paris. Hopefully, the young woman wasn't like everybody and acted naturally with him, as normal as possible considering her standards of normality.  
What about Charlie, then? Harry was tempted to think he would react as Luna did. He evidently had better things to do than to want to spend time with his youngest brother's best friend.  
Lost in his mind, he shrugged and finally told himself that he could probably try. In the worst case, if he didn't like the trip, he could still leave before his friends.  
Even though they talked about something else afterwards, the conversation stayed in Harry's mind until he went to bed. Elia was exhausted and decided to call it a night around two in the morning. They all went to their room after she had cast a few detections spells on the check-in desk and common room.  
[...]  
Harry woke up suddenly a mere hours later wholly lost. He grabbed his glasses and put them on. He wondered what could have woken him given he didn't remember any nightmare for once. He then noticed that someone was knocking insistently on the door. When he opened it, he discovered Elia wearing a short-sleeved shirt on a black tank top and a pair of jeans.  
"Finally! I've been knocking for five minutes," she said with an exceedingly bored face, too much to be honest.  
"I do remember a particular threat if someone dared to wake you up before noon. Or am I mistaken?" Harry answered, crossing his arms against his chest.  
"Except I went to bed before six. Now it's nine, the sun's shining, and you're invited for breakfast with us."  
"Very nice of you," he joked before nodding. "Let me take a shower, and I'll join you."  
"Hurry up if you want any croissant. We'll be in the common room."  
On these words, Elia waved and closed the door behind her. Harry shook his head and did as she had advised: he hurried. He wasn't ashamed of confessing that the neighbourhood's bakery had quickly become his weak point.  
He was drying his hair with his wand when Aderyn came through the open window. She wasn't bearing any letter, but she seemed satisfied with her recent trip. Harry caressed her head before leaving the room.  
He heard Elia's voice even before seeing her in the room. She was talking with intensity like each time she was interested in something.  
Céleste, her daughter and Luna were occupying the sofas where they had spent the previous night. The tenant was still a bit pale, but she smiled at the young man when e came closer to sit with them. On the coffee table, two large trays overflowed with a teapot, a pot of coffee, cups and a basket full of still warm pastries.  
"Hello, Harry," Luna welcomed him while pouring herself a cup of tea.  
"Slept well?" Elia added.  
"I almost think you're having fun." he sighed.  
"Me? Of course not. I wouldn't dare."  
He rolled his eyes.  
"Elia, who taught you to speak to customers like this?" Céleste asked.  
Elia had the decency to appeared sorry in front of her mother.  
"Harry's not a customer anymore. He's a permanent resident."  
Céleste handed Harry a cup of black tea, and he thanked her. He took a sip and grabbed a croissant he began to eat. He was planning to compensate for his brutal waking on the food.  
"Well, what did you have to tell me?" Céleste asked while leaning comfortably on the armrest.  
For a second Elia looked unsure.  
"Luna's received a letter from Rolf. He's still in Romania with his father, and he's asking if she wants to join them there or directly in England later on. Luna would like to go to Romania."  
"And that would be awesome if Elia came with me," Luna added, almost shyly.  
Céleste frowned and kept silent for a few seconds, the time to think about the matter.  
"I know it won't be easy for you while I'm gone, but it's been a very long time since I've taken some holidays and that's now or never." Elia pleaded.  
"I'm not saying no. We need to figure out a solution for your absence, indeed, but I'm not against you going on holidays with Luna. I hope you've taken more of my sedentary personality than your father's; otherwise, I'd have to find permanent measures for my succession here."  
Harry understood Céleste was trying to make her daughter react by teasing her. Elia frowned and announced:  
"It looks like you've been waiting for the time to replace me. But you won't have that satisfaction; I'll come back."  
"That's what I wanted to hear." Her mother retorted with a smile.  
Elia sighed.  
"What a family…"  
"Harry, you're going with them?" Céleste asked him. He had eaten his croissant and was about to take another one when she spoke to him. He stopped his hand above the basket like a child discovering by his parents making some mischief.  
"I'm thinking about it."  
"I don't want to force you if you don't want to, but know that I'll feel better if you'd go with them."  
"Mom, I'm old enough to take care of myself."  
Céleste raised an eyebrow.  
"You may be old enough to rule an inn, but you've never left the country. You don't know what can happen."  
Harry wondered if Céleste would have said yes so quickly if she had known there would be dragons.  
"I don't know what I would do here without Elia and Luna so if they're bot leaving I guess I'll follow them," he said at last.  
Céleste thanked him with a smile for taking her side.  
"Very good. Elia, I'm letting you find someone suitable to replace you during your trip."  
Elia made a face. She didn't expect to have to do it herself.  
Harry  
finally grabbed another croissant and let himself smile lightly when seeing Luna's genuine joy at the prospect of the holidays with her girlfriend.  
Maybe the future still had surprises in store for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your support! See you soon.


	7. A trip to Romania

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Sorry again for the delay. I've been struggling between exams, work and social life, but here's a new chapter. Hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Edit: so sorry for the first of you, I uploaded the wrong chapter... Mistake's solved.

In the next three days, Harry didn’t see Elia often. Apparently, she was actively looking for someone to hire. She came back at the Inn at the end of the day, disappointed by her unsuccessful researches. Céleste didn’t say anything, guessing her daughter wouldn’t take well any comment about the topic. For Harry, it was even more surprising to see his friend without her usual smile. He wished he could have helped her, but he knew she couldn’t force people to leave their own shops to help her.  
On the fourth day’s evening, she had got her good mood back. However, when he asked her if she had found someone, she only smiled playfully and changed the subject. Harry frowned but didn’t push the matter. She would answer eventually.  
During those waiting days, he had visited the last few places he wanted to see in Paris. He had gone to Montmartre with Luna who had never seen the church, and they had shared a cup of iced tea in a café. They had gone to the Chinese area in the 13th district to buy meat buns, moon cakes and various figurines supposed to bring luck. They had put them on the mantle of the chimney in the common room. Harry had visited on his own another museum and a large park.  
There, of course, other things to do in such a big city, but he had to satisfying feeling to be full for the moment. To be honest, it was a bit hard to stay curious about this city when another destination was slowly invading his thoughts.  
He had bought for Luna a guidebook about Romania and they read it together at night when Elia was taking care of the customers. When she was with them, they talked about practical matters: how to go, where to stay, and so on. Without surprise, Luna often didn’t participate much in these topics, without doubt liking more when they talked about dragons.  
The fifth day, Harry, Elia and Luna were having lunch in the garden between the inn and the house. Elia had just woken up and was slowly coming to her senses. Luna was talking about Elia eyes colour or was it the butterflies and Harry was trying to understand what she meant while distractedly eating his fries.  
The office’s door opened suddenly, and Céleste’s face appeared.  
“Eliana Louise Charles,” she called, hand on her hip.  
Her daughter straightened up while frowning.  
“What did I do?”  
Céleste looked at her without saying anything.  
“I wonder… Someone’s waiting to see you.”  
Elia thought about it and then her face brightened, which didn't go unnoticed by her mother.  
“I should have known it came from you the second he set foot in the room.” She rolled her eyes. “Go on, don’t make him wait.”  
Elia put down her coffee cup, kissed Luna on the top of her head and told Harry she would be back in a matter of seconds, then followed her mother into the office. Harry must admit that once more he was at a loss, even though the happy look on Elia’s face when she had left was reassuring.  
He finished his fried and Luna braided a strand of her long blond hair instead of eating hers.  
Elia came back followed by a man wearing faded jeans assorted with a black Sex Pistols t-shirt. He had two rings in his left ear, a goatee and messy dark blond hair.a  
“Luna, Harry, meet Daniel, my father.”  
Harry should have known, really.  
Elia didn’t know that many people outside of the Alley, and Harry was positive he had never seen him before.  
“Dan, this is my girlfriend Luna, and my friend Harry. They went to Hogwarts together,” she added as if it changed everything.  
Harry wasn’t so surprised to hear her mentioning Hogwarts as if made sense, more because she called her father by his name. But after all, their family wasn’t typical.  
“Hi! Elia has talked about you guys a lot,” he said to them before seating between them, in front of her daughter who was smiling widely. “Oh, you have fries!”  
He grabbed one in the plate and began eating with a satisfied grin. Luna slipped her plate toward him surreptitiously. He smiled thankfully at her.  
“So this is your solution?” Harry asked after a moment of silence.  
“It seems complicated, but honestly it’s the best solution ever. Dan had lived here for years, even if that was a while ago.”   
“Thanks for making me realize I’m old,” he added while munching on fries.  
“You’re welcome. And Dan knows my mother, so that’s definitely a plus.”  
“I admire your ability to criticize your dear mother without seeming to. Hopefully, she’s not here to hear you.”  
Elia rolled her eyes, trying to have Harry take sides.  
“Truth is, I can’t wait to leave. Two parents full time on my back is exhausting,” she whispered with false tiredness.  
Harry couldn’t help but smile at this, liking the fact Elia didn’t take him into pity or realize what she had said could have hurt him. He appreciated her for this too: she knew how to be careful when she wanted too, but she was also able to laugh easily and break the boundaries.  
“For serious now, for how long do you need me to stay?” Daniel asked while pouring himself a cup of coffee now that he wasn’t hungry anymore.  
“One week at least, it is possible?”  
“It’s possible,” he nodded.  
“Great!” she said joyfully. “I’ll pay you back.”  
That’s how Elia’s replacement was decided. Thanks to Daniel’s arrival, they could send a message to Rolf saying they would arrive soon. Harry had already packed his stuff and planned his departure, so he was a bit bored the last two days in Paris, even though Daniel was highly entertaining. He had been in numerous countries during his life and had a lot of stories to tell.  
Like the day he arrived in India without speaking any word of Hindi nor Tamoul and after a morning spent to find shelter because of the monsoon he had found himself into a shady hostel where he had met a wizard traveller from New Zealand. They had travelled together the next month then their paths had gone different ways, Dan leaving the Asian continent for a while.  
“Sometimes, you find better people for yourself the farthest from home.” Daniel had said at the end of the story.  
Harry kept this sentence in his mind and wondered how it could work for him. Even though he had left dear friends behind, he had met Elia here, and that was a meeting that had changed is the perception of friendship and life in general. But he couldn’t say France was the farthest from home. For Daniel, it must be the same. He had Céleste and Elia here, but he had probably met on the road people whom he had shared vivid memories with.  
Anyway, he reminded himself, that’s not as if e would meet a lot of people from now on since he was travelling with his friends. Furthermore, he didn’t speak Romanian, so he wasn’t going to venture alone in this foreign country.  
They left the day they received an answer from Rolf. It should have been too late to book an international Portkey, but Daniel knew those networks and managed to get the tickets through a friend at the Ministry. On a rainy mid-afternoon in Paris, Harry, Elia and Luna said their goodbyes to Céleste, Daniel and Marthe.  
“You take care of yourself, alright? And you watch after Luna too.”  
Céleste wasn’t okay with letting her daughter go, which despite her age was understanding since it was her first trip, moreover without her mother.  
Daniel winked at Harry, knowing Céleste would talk to him next.  
“Harry,” she began as if on cue. “I’m counting on you to remind her not to throw herself at danger. I know you’re reasonable.”  
He nodded and smiled for the sake of it.  
“Of course, Céleste. I’ll stay with them.”  
Elia rolled her eyes then embraced briefly her grand-mother then her father.  
“It’s time to go. It would be silly to miss the Portkey.”  
She kissed Céleste on the cheek and grabbed Luna’s left hand, the right holding her suitcase. She wore a pair of jeans ripped at the knees with thin, light blue cotton pullover which contrasted with Elia’s leather jacket and fitted forest green trousers. Harry still wore the same clothes he had a few weeks before when he’d arrived and his faithful backpack. He had shrunk Aderyn’s cage and sent her to go to Romania by her own means.   
The two groups waved at each other and the three youngest left the inn.  
They took the subway to the Ministry. The oncoming trip drove them impatient.  
They quickly found the way to the Portkey’s departure room and announced themselves to the Munchen’s Portkey check-in. Then they waited for half an hour until it was time to go. The Portkey was an umbrella a size bigger than average and seven other people went along. A Ministry clerk made sure everyone had shrunk their bags in their pockets to avoid losing them on the way. Then he counted to five and everything went blurry. Harry felt the familiar uncomfortable feeling and closed his eyes.  
A while later, he felt with relief the floor under his feet. He stood and made sure Elia and Luna weren’t in any trouble. Elia was making a face seemingly not liking this first contact with magical transportation. Luna wasn’t different from usual, so Harry relaxed a bit.  
They exited the room they had arrived in after they told the German Ministry clerk their trip didn’t stop here. He explained that it was easier to make short hops across Europe for that kind of trip than to travel Paris-Bucarest in one go. Sometimes there was one stop only, but that kind of Portkey was rare and booked very quickly. Luna has had the chance to take one for the outward journey.  
They took another Portkey for Zagreb, Croatia.  
They made it there at eight, french hour, and it wasn’t the final stop yet. Another one brought them to Timisoara, at the Serbian and Romanian border, then the last one to Bucharest.  
When they exited the Romanian Ministry, at eleven, local hour, they were all suffering from a headache and no one except Luna knew what Rolf looked like nor when he was going to pick them up. Luna was currently cradling the suitcase which contained a grumpy Niffler.   
They sat on a bench outside to wait. Elia leant on Harry’s shoulder and began to doze. Luna was watching around  
her with a sleepy look and Harry forced himself to stay awake to watch after them as he had promised Céleste.  
At least forty minutes passed before a young man came toward them with a determined stride.  
“Luna!” He called when he was close enough.  
Harry watched him as Luna set her suitcase beside her to let the newcomer embrace her. He had light brown skin, dark curly hair and a big smile. He finally let Luna go and made a move toward Harry.  
“Hi, I’m Rolf. You must be Harry?”  
“That’s me.”  
They shook hands and smiled politely. Feeling Harry move, Elia opened her eyes.  
“Oh, hi,” she whispered with a sleepy smile when she noticed Rolf was standing in front of her.  
“We should go, it’s late already, and you must be exhausted  
They all followed Rolf back through the Ministry to huge chimneys.  
“Floo is the easiest way to make it to the reserve. We can’t do it the muggle way because of the strong protections.”  
They didn’t protest and Harry wondered if he hated Floor or Portkey more.  
“I’ll let you go and join you afterwards. The place’s called Ushguli.”  
Luna went first still holding her suitcase. She vanished in the green flames then it was Elia’s turn, turn Harry’s who glanced at Rolf before stepping into the chimney. He threw his floo powder, pronounced the name given with a loud voice and closed his eyes under the magical force that grabbed him to apparate him away.  
He opened back his eyes when his body collided with a hard surface. He was in a small room poorly furnished besides the large stone chimney they had come through. Harry stood up and joined Elia and Luna, who were standing next to the only door. They seemed too tired to be amused about his clumsiness, to his great relief.  
Rolf came in mere seconds later and didn’t stumble.  
“Everyone’s here, great. Let’s go to bed, and we’ll see about the rest in the morning.”  
Nobody protested once more.  
“It’s chilling out there though; you’d better cast a Heat charm before leaving the room if you don’t want to freeze your ass off.”  
Harry did as he was told and felt the warmth invade his body as if he had stepped into a hot bath.  
The exhaustion rushed through his body at the same time.“  
“Fine, let's go.”  
Rolf showed the way and lit a tiny flame in a rudimentary-looking lantern. Thanks to the light, they were able to see the uneven path on which they set foot.  
The heat charm prevented Harry to be attacked by the cold, but despite that, he still felt the purity of the air in his lungs.  
They walked a few minutes in single file, passing in front of stone houses each side of the hilly road.  
“Here we are,” Rolf said, stopping in front of one of those houses. He extinguished the lantern and left it outside then pushed the door open and entered, followed by the others.  
Harry looked at the room sleepily but found it welcoming, thanks to the floor made of light wood and covered with brightly coloured carpets. The walls were of course made of stone, but there were also exposed beams. The room wasn’t too big and furnished with a pair of armchairs and a chimney where embers were still red.  
“I’ll sleep with my father tonight, you can have my room upstairs,” Rolf told the two women.  
Luna nodded, waved at them and grabbed Elia’s arm to drive her to the staircase at the end of the room.  
“As for you, I’ve been told the armchairs were comfortable enough. I hope that’ll be alright for now.”  
“It’s perfect,” Harry answered, worried to annoyed this stranger.  
Rolf sighed when he noticed the mess in the living room.  
“My father had let his stuff here again. And he always complains when he can’t find them…”  
Harry had to admit he was pretty curious to meet his father after everything he had heard about him.  
Rolf levitated the parchments that were sleeping to free an armchair then with another swift move he enlarged it to allow Harry to sleep comfortably.  
“Here.”  
“Thanks,” Harry only said while setting his bag on the floor.  
“I’m off to bed. The kitchen and bathroom are upstairs. If the door is open, no one’s in.”  
“Alright,” Harry mumbled. “Good night,” he added.  
“See you tomorrow.”  
Rolf was finally alone in the room. He would have like to spent a while in the bathroom before going to bed, but he didn’t find the energy in to go upstairs. He was going to sleep and he’d see about the rest later on.  
He laid with his clothes on, grabbed a plaid and to cover himself and fell asleep in the minute.  
[...]  
When Harry opened his eyes, the sun was shining and the fire had died into the hearth. The house was quiet; something Elia wasn't. He cast a Tempus. It was past nine. He wasn't feeling well rested; the trip had taken its toll on him.  
He folded the blanket and put it on the sofa. He then ventured upstairs with his bag, aiming to find the bathroom. The upstairs room wasn't unlike the living-room, furnished with a sink full of dirty dishes, a kitchen counter, a table and several chairs. A corridor led to three rooms, one of them being open. Harry closed the door behind him and enjoyed a shower to soothe his muscles and woke him up. He dried his messy hair, put clean clothes on and exited the room to find Elia waiting for him.  
"I thought you'd sleep all day," he said.  
She made a face.   
"That's easy to mock me when you go to bed before midnight."  
Harry couldn't help but grin.  
"Slept well?"  
"Perfectly. What about you?"  
"Same."  
"It's the fresh air of the mountain," Luna said very naturally while appearing behind them.  
"You managed to look outside already?" Elia asked.  
Luna smiled softly.  
"I went out with Newt this morning. He left at dawn."  
Elia rolled her eyes.   
"I swear, this man and his beasts...." She mumbled.  
She then went to take a shower now that Harry had vacated the space. Rolf exited his own room and said hello. Luna and Harry sat at the table. Harry felt lost in this new house and its unknown habits.  
Rolf rummaged through the cupboards and put his treasure on the table. There was half a loaf of bread, something like fresh cheese, a pot of coffee and a bowl of wild berries. Everyone started to eat merrily and Luna and Rolf chatted together while Harry listened a word or two. Luna's topics of choice were too complicated for his tired mind. It was good to be able to eat and daydream for a while.   
Elia made her appearance half an hour later and ate what they had left.   
"What do we do today?" she asked after drinking her first sip of black coffee.  
"See the baby dragon,"   
"Earth to the moon," Rolf said, his lips halfway between the smile and the face. "I explained later that we can't go together, they'll only let a few people in. And my dad's already there, so..."  
"Well, I'll go first, and you'll come later," Luna stated.  
"She really wants to see that dragon," Elia said to Rolf as an excuse.  
"Sadly, I knew it wasn't for my good looks." He sighed.  
Harry wondered if it was in Elia's nature to be jealous since Rolf seemed to act weirdly around Luna. But maybe she trusted Luna enough not to worry about a flirty friend.  
"Boys are weird," Luna mumbled to Elia, which brought a smile to her lips.  
Elia then nodded vigorously.  
"By the way, my mother sent an owl yesterday. She wants us to be in London the day after tomorrow," Rolf announced.  
"But we just came here! And Elia got holidays!" Luna added.  
Rolf made a face.  
"I don't want to go either, but she'll really come to get us here if we're not in London soon enough."  
"Can't I join you later? Harry and Elia will stay with me."  
"Here? You're the only one who knows the village, how are you going to do?"  
Rolf wasn't wrong; if they counted on Luna to tell them things she didn't deem useful, it wouldn't be easy.  
"We'll manage. And Harry knows someone here."  
Everyone raised their eyebrows, Harry first. Really, he shouldn't be surprised anymore about Luna's knowledge.  
"Who's that?" Rolf asked with a sudden curiosity.  
"A red-haired dragon tamer," Luna precise.  
"Charlie Weasley," Harry confessed.  
"Oh," Rold said. "In that case, I guess you could stay here. But I'm not completely fine. Underestimate danger is Luna's hidden gift. I'm counting on you to keep her safe," he stated thoughtfully while throwing at side-glance in Harry's direction.  
"I'm there too," Elia said without venom.  
"Harry could make a diversion while you grab Luna should a dragon attack."  
 Elia burst into laughter.  
"Okay, I'm fine with that."  
"I don't wanna end as dragons' food. One time was enough."  
Rolf's gaze on him changed at that.  
"Oh, you're this Harry? Well, I can leave you the benefice of the doubt and admit you could protect Luna for a few days."  
Harry thought Rolf was a bit strange and very protective toward Luna. He kept to himself that she was perfectly able to handle herself most of the time, even though she sometimes needed help. Images from Malfoy Manor came to Harry's mind and he threw them away as quickly as he could. It wasn't the time to think about that, they had managed to escape and that times now belonged to the past. They could only hope that it stayed in the past.  
"Rolf tried to test me too when we first met," Elia told Harry.   
He nodded without saying anything. He wasn't feeling at ease, to be honest.  
"I'll go with Luna since she wants to see the dragon so much," Rolf announced. "You two could go later in the day."  
Harry noticed Elia wasn't delighted to see her girlfriend go without her.  
"And what are we going to do in the meantime?"   
"You can wander around into the village; if you stay close to the house, you'll stay safe from the dragons."  
Strangely, they didn't know if that was reassuring or not.  
"The houses stay open even when there's no one inside. You can come back here if the weather worsens. It's sometimes a matter of minutes since we're high into the mountains."  
Neither Harry nor Elia had any idea about their current location so they could only nod to Rolf's information.   
"What do we do, take a walk and when we're done we come back here to wait?" Elia asked  
without enthusiasm, far from her usual energy.  
"Why not, maybe we'll find something to do in the village."  
"True. But aren't you supposed to know someone? A dragon tamer in addition?"  
"Well, I know him, but not so well. In fact, he's my best friend older brother; I think I've met him once or twice. I don't know anything about him, except that he works here in Romania."  
"Finally, something we can do! We're going to find your mystery man."  
Harry saw the glint of interest in her eyes and sighed.  
"You won't make fun of me in front of him, right?"  
"I wouldn't dare. I'll judge him and evaluate your compatibility."  
Harry thought he had better make a low profile so that she wouldn't push harder. A sharp knock on the living-room window saved him. Harry opened it, and Aderyn flew into the room, then landed on the nearest couch's armrest, where Harry had slept the previous night.  
Elia stroke her feathers softly and Harry rummaged through his bag to retrieve a treat. She grabbed it in the air.  
"She doesn't seem as tired as we are, though she flew all the way without magic."   
"I've always fond amazing how owls were able to fly long distance only to deliver mail," Harry confessed.  
In truth, that had been one of his biggest surprises when he had discovered the wizarding world.  
"Aderyn, we're going on a walk, you stay here?"  
The small owl ruffled her feathers and flew to perch on a piece of high furniture.  
"I guess she's okay with that."  
Harry took his bag and turned toward Elia.  
"You ready?"  
She shrugged.  
"I suppose. You think I should take something with me?" She worried, noticing he was taking all his belongings with him.  
"I don't think we'll need it. I prefer to have all my stuff with me, out of habit."  
"It must be full to the rim if you're trailing it since you arrived in Paris."  
Harry smiled.  
"You're right, I have a lot of things, but I can still find what I'm looking for, so that's not a lost cause."  
"I'll take a sweater just in case."  
"Fine, I'll wait outside."  
She went upstairs and he exited the house. Thanks to the light of day, he discovered the landscape. They had arrived through the mud and stone pathway. The village was surrounded by hills, green fields and a large river. It was a very relaxing view which reminded him of Scotland.   
Elia joined him minutes later, now wearing a grey and black wool sweater.  
"Waouh," she said while looking everywhere. "That's amazing."  
It was probably even more surprising for her since she had never left Paris.  
"Where to?" Harry asked once she noticed he was there too.  
"Here." She said, showing the valley.  
They discovered numerous houses looking robust thanks to their stoned front. A few of them looked like shops of some sorts. Half an hour later, they had crossed the village and still didn't meet a living soul. All they could hear was from nature: wind, birds, river.  
It was profoundly strange as if they were in a ghost town. However, the houses didn't look abandoned. Maybe everyone was currently working at the moment. They decided to go back to the house since there wasn't anything else to see outside and they didn't want to venture into the reserve alone.  
They found a message in front of their house, kept in place by a heavy stone. Harry grabbed it when he recognised his name on it.  
They entered to find shelter from the wind and sat on the couches, bored but satisfied to rest for a while.  
Harry unfolded the piece of paper and read it before passing it to Elia who was looking expectantly, curious about the message.  
"Dear Harry,  
I've learnt that you were in the village! You can congratulate yourself on your ability to surprise people. I'm amazed you've come here by yourself. I would like to see my mother's face when she'll learn about it. (Not through me, don't worry).  
If you'd like, I can take a break from work this afternoon to guide you. Ask Rolf to show you the way, and I'll join you.  
See you later I hope  
Charlie Weasley"  
"That's settled, then," Elia said, smiling after she'd read the message too. "He seems very familiar with you; you're sure you don't know him?"  
"I'm almost family. He talks to me as if he were talking to his brother, that's all," Harry defended, without acknowledging why he needed to protect himself in front of Elia who was only teasing.  
"We'll see eventually," she said, to have the final word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. I'm always delighted to read your comments. Until next time!

**Author's Note:**

> Well, what did you think about it? I accept all kind of respectful comments!  
> Thank you so much for reading. Have a good day/night. 
> 
> Yoi


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